Zoya Lovejoy
by WhiteRusskie
Summary: Being a former serial killer, Zoya Lovejoy is living the high life of being a snuff star. However, the strange dreams (as well as a certain Someone) make her wonder if there is something to her role then what she thought. (a Re-visioning of Droog)
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! As you've already noticed I'm going to be re-writing _Droog_. I'm doing this because I've seen too many mistakes on the rough draft and feel that this story can bring more to the table. If you want you can read the rough draft and re-written version to compare, it would really help to give me feedback, that way I can take notes as the story goes on. Just to let you know this story is going to have some changes for the original rough draft, mostly so the plot would make better sense. **

**Also thank you demonbarber14 for helping me out and being very supportive, a billion thanks to you :)! **

**As for the rest of you, Enjoy!**

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Chapter 1

The silver bracelets on my wrists screamed loud and clear that I was caught. Of course they couldn't have waited; they've been looking for me for a good long while. Didn't matter that I was in a hospital, the police as well as the doctors knew what I did to my father and his young third wife and would have done the same to my boyfriend if only he didn't start fighting back. I'm going to admit I was in over my head, I thought of myself as invincible by simply being female. I'm sure Aileen Wuornos thought the same thing.

I lay back down in bed, knowing I wasn't going anywhere. Once my eyes closed, I began to dream. I usually don't remember my dreams, but this one was very vivid. I was twelve and wearing a hot pink rain coat with an umbrella to match. It was nighttime and raining so hard that I could barely see the bench across the street. I don't want to be out in the dark and in the rain but I had promised to be here. I waited in the cold, wet darkness a little longer, I actually began to cry. Someone had promised to take me away but, I can't remember who. I looked down at my watch (also hot pink) telling me it was 9 o' clock at night. _That Someone should be here by now, why isn't that person here? _That's when the rain finally stopped; I turn my attention up to the sky then to the bench. Someone was there (three somesones to be exact) sitting on that bench. I was afraid because the Three were not that Someone.

_"Zoya, I'm sorry this has to happen to you but you'll have to make a choice,"_ said one of the Three. Before I woke up in a prison cell instead of a hospital I remember five glowing lights coming out of the faces of the Dark Trinity. My back was stiff from the hard bed, "What choice?" I groaned as I got up. My hand touched the dense, orange fabric of the 'fabulous' jail suit, rubbing my back as I walked to the mirror. I know my boyfriend (ex-boyfriend I expect, and the first to actually live) did a number to my face.

In the mirror was a young female that has been sentenced to prison for twenty-five to life or possibly death row, and I've only been here for maybe a day or two. The ugly orange I was wearing clashed unfavorably with my slightly tanned skin, but looks don't matter here. I traced the four scratches on my face. I know those are going to turn into scars, I remember how hard his nails went into the flesh and the way it stung when he marked my face. The marks were tender, but it wasn't as bad as the scar that went from the left corner of my mouth to the end of my jaw. Goddamn, it hurt like a motherfucker and it was self-inflicted. Apparently harming yourself is painful.

I heard footsteps coming down the hall, but I paid no mind; I'm going to be here forever, so might as well look at myself all I want. I'm not very appealing with the scars, messy copper hair (it's going to turn back to its natural dark brunette from the lack of sunshine, I just know it), and that nasty orange I'm forced to wear for the rest of my days but if I was in a more stylish situation, a man (or woman) would be more then willing to flirt with me. Stylish or not, the only thing that stays the same are my eyes. _Your eyes are like the ocean; they're beautiful and dangerous._ I don't know who told me that, maybe it's from that Someone that was suppose to take me away from here and decided to ditch me. My hands ball into fists at the thought. Beauty is great, but not enough. At least that Someone was right about their being dangerous. I can always tell by the way my eyes change. Some have said they were like the blue of the Caribbean Sea, others have compared them to a dark navy when the sun is about to set. As of now, those blue eyes are almost as dark as the abyss. _I will love you, forever_. Hearing the words I finally snap with an angry scream and a fist to the mirror.

"Miss Lovejoy!" exclaimed a female guard, pulling me away from the mirror. The mirror itself was almost in pieces, reflecting back a fun house version of us. I held up my arms, "I'm fine now," I said truthfully. My distorted reflection made me feel calmer. The guard said something about the medical ward but my eyes were on the mirror until I was out of the cell.

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Rubbing my newly bandaged, fist I didn't know we passed my cell. I was too occupied with the thought of new scars on my knuckles to realize this until the door closed behind me. Unlike the sickly brown walls of my cell the room I was in looked very new with its clean whiteness and the smell of cleaning products. Adding to the nice cleanness was a man in a black suit sitting behind a black table. I was assuming he was my defense lawyer, probably going to lie through his teeth that I was nuttier then a fruitcake and I should go to the nearest asylum as possible. I doubted that would happen, but if I'm lucky maybe the good old doctors can masturbate the violence out of me (rumor has it they're bringing it back). I bit the inside of my cheeks to keep from laughing and sat across from what I thought was my lawyer.

"Miss Lovejoy, it's a pleasure to meet you," said the suit, I actually snickered at the comment as we shook hands and sat myself down. I'm not exactly a pleasurable person to meet; if I were there wouldn't be a need to be here.

"What's so funny?" he asked, if the suit didn't have such a nice voice I wouldn't have bothered to look at his face. I guessed he was in his late thirties or early forties from the thin crows feet and the grey hair on the side of his temples. I'm not going to lie, he was very handsome to look at, especially with the silver eyes but I thought those were contacts.

"I think you should have been a movie star," I mused

"Really, what makes you think that?"

"You kind of remind me of a villain of a Tarantino movie, mainly I'm thinking _Pulp Fiction_ with that suit but that face makes me think of Col. Hans Landa…..are you a Christoph Waltz clone? I hear they've cloned a lot of actors in Hollywood."

"No, I'm a pure original human being." Oh what a bummer. "My name is Stan Rubick by the way, with a ck at the end instead of a k. People tend to think I'm related the inventor of the infamous puzzle cube." I nodded and decided to get down to business.

"So tell me, Mr. Rubick, what are my best chances if I plea for insanity? I have a feeling it's-"

"I'm not your lawyer Miss Lovejoy," he said abruptly. I was silent a few seconds from confusion then I smiled as I thought of the next possible thing.

"Ok….I think you're a little bit overdressed to be a journalist. Usually they're more for old jackets and band name shirts." Rubick laughed at my comment.

"Back when I was a freshmen in college I tried, but ended up in entertainment and politics instead." When he said 'entertainment' and 'politics' in the same sentence, I knew immediately who he was; it also made me realize why the police didn't question me. I've heard of people, mostly teenagers, suddenly disappearing after a brutal crime has been committed, then end up staring in one of the live shows on SERTV or Snuff Entertainment Reality TeleVision. Most of the time they're game shows but instead of money it's a spared life that's offered to one lucky victim who makes it alive. As gruesome as that sounds, it's very tame to some of the late night content I've seen.

I sighed, "So you know what I've done. How much do you know?"

"Enough to know you're a serial killer," he said, pulling out a notebook and pen from his suitcase. "Which is why I'm here. So tell me, when did you first start killing?" I didn't speak for a moment, feeling a little scared to tell the truth. I've killed enough people to put me in the late night shows on SERTV. I can already imagine myself being fillet like a fish or brutally raped by the end of a baseball bat. Yeah, lethal injection looks pretty humane right now.

"Don't you already know?"

"Of course I know but, I want to hear it from you." Of course, what better to kill me then to hear the evil out of my lips.

"Ok," I said, I had no way out so might as well make my confession now. "My first victim I killed was a middle school bully, before then I mainly killed cats. Both of us got suspended for fighting on school grounds so I stalked her for a week and while her parents were out celebrating new years I drugged her, took her out to the nature trail on Pawnee and I made her grin from ear to ear before gutting her up."

"Ah yeah, the first victim of the Wichita Dahlia murders," said Rubick, writing something down on his notebook, probably brainstorming on the best way to torture a terrible person like me. "Most of them were woman but on rare occasions you targeted men as well, all castrated. Some of the locals think there might be more then one killer but, of course we already know that. You had a way of killing in different styles, why is that?"

"So I wouldn't get caught," I said plainly, "If I was only doing it one way the law would have gotten me sooner; plus it's boring to do it one way. Say what you want about murder but, in my eyes it's an art in itself." I was expecting him to be disgusted, but he surprised me by leaning forward with interest and urged me to explain. I thought that maybe he was pretending and was secretly revolted. Either way, I went on confessing with more zeal; if I'm going to ripped to pieces I might as well give it my all.

"As you already know, Mr. Rubick, I go by many names. I am the Dahlia Killer, the Castrator, The Ripper of Broadway, and my personal favorite, the Man Eater. There is always a motive murder so don't think of it as random. I might have killed one victim one way then tomorrow a different way, doesn't matter, the killings all come down to the same reason."

"What sort of reason would that be?"

"Sex…I was implanted with a Sparky when I was twelve. After my parents got divorced my father decided it was the best thing for me." I laughed, thinking about that day. A Sparky is like an inside out chastity belt and mainly the highly religious like to implant it on their daughters until marriage. My father told me it was for my own protection, in truth I actually felt violated after I woke up.

"I see," said Rubick, he looked very interested, "You got sexual satisfaction from bloodshed, kind of like Andrei Chikatilo."

"Yeah," I said, I was really wanting an E-stick to smoke out of right now. I always want an E-stick when I feel anxious. "Only I didn't get sexual gratification from children. If I ever had to kill a child (which I did a few times) it was quick and painless, another reason I wasn't caught cause nobody really cares about teenagers or adults. Anyway, to get back on point, I actually feel sorry for Andrei, I understand his position quite well. Forever bloody virgins the both of us." I was quiet for a little bit while Rubick wrote in his notebook. Andrei had it lucky; his execution was a bullet to the head. Mine however, is going to be a blood bath on the small screen. Lucky fucking bastard!

"Before I get my fifteen minutes of fame, I want to make my last request to abort Sparky and have a one night stand."

"Excuse me?"

I sighed in frustration, I've been keeping it cool for a while but now my nerves are fried.

"I want to get laid, goddamnit! I'M STILL A FUCKING VIRGIN AND I WANT TO GET LAID BEFORE I FUCKING DIE!" The room was ringing with silence, it was in the air and I can feel myself ready to cry. Face in my hands I can feel tears flowing from my eyes. I hear Rubick get up from his chair; I did not expect him to hug me.

"Zoya, you got it all wrong," he said, running his fingers through my mess of a hair. I had to admit this was quite nice even though I thought he was doing it to comfort me until the worst happens. He pushed me away from his shoulder, brushing the tears from my eyes. He was close enough to kiss me when he said, "I'm not here to kill you, I'm offering you a job." Did I hear him correctly?

"A…job?"

"Yeah, did you actually think I was going to put you on SERTV just to kill you off?" he asked, I was a little too speechless to answer. "If I wanted to do that I would have put you on the game shows after you've killed your first victim but to do that would be a waste of talent, and you have a lot of talent."

"Ok," I paused; I didn't know weather to think of this as a good thing or a bad thing. "So am I going to be like the spokesperson of one of the games or something?" I was smiling from ear to ear at the thought; I was hoping I would be the replacement for Stella Mench on my all time favorite game show _High Stakes. _I always thought she was a smooth lady whenever some unfortunate teen went to their death.

"No."

I frowned a little. "Am I going to be a….snuffer?" A snuffer is like a porn star but their movies have blood and sex galore in them.

"Oh no, Zoya, not that either," he said, taking something out of his suitcase and handing me an envelope that had the words _Droog_ written on it.

"I know that word from _A Clockwork Orange_. What does a Kubrick movie have to do with SERTV?"

"Well Zoya, this is the future and that movie is known for chaos, plus I think the role of Alex would fit you nicely." I burst into laughter; I knew the real reason why he chose this theme. Every Halloween I dress up as Alex, of all things that have been feminized (from Freddy Krueger to firemen), though in Alex's case, I've always thought he looked very womanly.

"Oh God….Alex should have been a woman in the first place! He would have gotten away with crime if only had some hooters to flash." Both of us ended up roaring with laughter. If you are not laughing at this you are either more soulless then I am or just plain don't know what I'm talking about.

"So, I take it you accept the job offer then?"

"Yeah," I said, catching my breath from all my laughing. "What would happen if I didn't?"

"You'd be put on death row by tomorrow if you refuse and not by lethal injection either." I guess I don't have that many options.

"Then it's a deal, when do I start?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey Guys! Here's chapter 2. A million thanks to demonbarber14 for being my beta!**

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Chapter 2

That was two years ago, my friends, and I've become a totally different person. Well, in a physical sense I'm different. My brown hair is cut short and dyed cherry red. My suntan and scars are synthetically painted pale as well as flawless. Hell, even my blue irises had to change to green. All for my protection or so Rubick told me. Except for the death of my father and his wife, I was never convicted for my multiple murders. In short, I didn't see the point of hiding.

Sitting in an actual milk bar called Innocence with a bottle of strawberry Bliss in my hand, I look at myself in the bar mirror. As much as I appreciate Rubick's concern for my well being I didn't like the new look. For one, all that paleness almost blended with the outfit. Any paler I might as well be wearing only thigh-high leather boots and a Derby hat. In a way I am barely dressed, the shorts and cut off long sleeved shirt showed ninety percent of my skin. Rubick wanted me to be more appropriate. This was my rebuttal, "Let me be inappropriate. I'm a serial killer, not a role model." (Course this is part of the reason but, I'll get to that later). The mask with the fake lashes on the left is just an icing on the cake of unnecessary changes. Can't a girl get a break?

I take a swig from the bottle. It tastes like strawberry milk with a salty copper aftertaste from the hallucinogen Lynch. It's best to drink Bliss slowly to get a good effect. Drink it too fast then experience a bad trip or a 'Lynching'. I put the bottle down on the bar and close my eyes. The tingle on my skin tells me it's working. "Hit me with Abstinence," I said. I hear the bartender open something under the bar but my mind was on the Lynch.

A good trip always starts with arousal. Feeling very horny, I start groping my boobs. On the up side of Rubick's idea of change he made my girls bigger. They were already big before, but hey I'm a fan of huge tits. Opening my eyes a little I see Alex is behind me. Of course the Lynch in conjuring up my desires but I don't give a fuck. "Hey Bright Eyes," I said. The Lynch is telling me his hands are cupping my face.

"Want to do the ever popular in-out, in-out?" I ask him. He says nothing; he doesn't need to say anything. His hands leave my face. I close my eyes again, feeling his lips on my neck while his hands fondle my breasts. Being so hot and bothered I forget bar stools doesn't have a back. I would have fallen over if Georgette didn't come to the rescue.

"Whoa, Alexis," she said, helping me in place. Georgette is a slender girl with pixie black hair and hazel eyes. Her mesh shirt and skinny white jeans make her thinner then she actually is. Even though she's a masterful thief, she's the most decent out of all of us. While I got caught unwillingly, Rachael (that's her real name) turned herself in. I've asked her why; she always tells me it's not her time. Whatever that means.

"It's Zoya," I said. My head is cloudy with lust.

"I know, but on camera you are Alexis."

"Already we're filming?" I asked, disappointed I look up at Alex. He looks just as bummed out as I am. Turning my attention from him to the counter I see a dime sized Oreo. I pop the cookie in my mouth, chew and swallow. Jesus, these things were bitter. Looking up, Alex was gone along with the euphoria. A reason it's called Abstinence is that it leaves you slightly depressed for a little bit. Georgette pats my shoulder in comfort.

"You'll always have a next time," she said. Georgette is a really great friend, but it only makes me more depressed. I still have Sparky. I'm still a virgin. I've put in many requests to Rubick about aborting Sparky. He always gives me this answer, "It's too dangerous; you still need to wait." The thought of being a virgin forever just makes me want to cry.

"Alexis, we've got a problem," said Diva. I can see the tiny red veins in the whites of her eyes in great detail. The Bliss and the Abstinence are beginning to kick in. I'm actually feeling better now; it's Diva's panic that's slightly killing the mood. In my new state of mind, she's so tough looking that no body would dare challenge her to a fight. Diva's real name is Natti and she's muscular as Georgette is slender. The black and white latex only adds to the 'don't fuck with me' look. She likes to brag that a man tried to rape her when she turned the tables around on her attacker and violated him.

"What would that be Diva? Did somebody actually accomplish raping you?" I asked, smiling from ear to ear. I'm feeling so good that I don't give a shit about the evil eye she's giving me. That's the thing about B and A, the beast does whatever it wants. "No Lexi, it's Petra. She's experiencing a Lynching." Oh that Goddamn junkie!

"Jazz is high on something other then B and A isn't she?" Diva nods quickly, my hands ball into fists. I'm so ready to punch her in the face. The last time Petra experienced a Lynching she was heading for oncoming traffic. If Georgette didn't catch her on time we would've put _Droog _on hold for another season. Usually shows get cancelled if a new cast member isn't auditioned on time and cancellation usually means death. _Droog _almost came close to a cancelation until Jazz came into the picture. As much as want to strangle her I owe her a thanks for our lives. "Do you know what she's on?"

"I saw her take Mary Jane earlier, but I swear I didn't think-" I cut her off with my fist in her stomach. I hit her a couple more times before she doubled over on the floor. "You fucking idiot! You're not suppose to take any drugs when you're under Bliss or Abstinence or fucking both. Now where is she?"

"I don't know…..she just up and left," she whizzed, I inhaled through my teeth. There's only one way to defuse the anxiety I'm feeling. I get my cane that's leaning against the bar and start hitting her viciously on the back and thighs.

"You…stupid…..FUCK!" I said after every strike. Diva practically signed our death warrents so she deserves a beating. I would have kept beating her if Georgette didn't intervene.

"That's enough Lexi," said Georgette, holding my wrists up. I want to scream that we're finished when she gave me glorious news from Heaven. "Mr. R told me where Petra is, she's at the Elvis Casino." All the muscles in my body relax. The Elvis Casino is only a block from here. Nothing but old people wanting to gamble. Petra would probably kill them by heat attack being under a Lynching. Just when things were looking bright, I get hit with bad news.

"The Nazis are there." Without a word, I dashed out the door like I've never dashed before. In reality I must have been running at a normal speed, yet the blur of different lights says other wise. The flashing white letters of Elvis screamed that I'd reached my destination. Stopping seemed to be a difficulty; my body wants to keep running, yet somehow I managed. My vision pulses with my heart, making the entrance to the casino become alive. Rubick speaks inside my right ear, "Petra's on the top floor." I whir around thinking he was right there for a second then I remember the mini-microphones in our ears.

Time ticking every second I burst into the casino, getting a good eye full of old people and memorabilia. The elderly didn't bother to turn with my sudden presence which is a good thing. Every detail of their aging just makes me want to puke. Vomiting would only lead me to a Lynching myself. Needing to avoid this, I ran to the elevator in front of me. One second, the elderly as well as the slot machines are a blur, the next I'm in a silver elevator with the doors closing. The nausea finally passes, what a relief. The door opens and then the relief is gone.

The Frau leans against the wall, watching her soldiers have fun with an unwilling Lolita. Her original customer watches with vacant eyes. He probably died before the true terror began. I step out, kicking an empty bottle of Bacardi to grab their attention. "Well Hallo, Frau Alexis. How do I owe the pleasure," she said, taking off her mask. Lolita grabs her clothes, running to the elevator. At this point my focus is on the Frau. Her hair is long and dark, her eyes seeming to match. Her uniform is just as revealing as mine. We're pretty must the same if only of two vital differences. For one, I envy her keeping her sunkissed skin and battle scars. She can show them off proudly while I have to hide them like a dirty secret. As for reason number two, she has some beef against me and I have no idea why and I frankly don't give a shit.

"You can first off tell me were Petra is and we'll leave to do our business," I said. "We have a long night ahead of us." The Frau shook her head, making a tsk sound.

"That's the thing, darling. We have no idea were your junkie is. Even if we did, we'd make sure you see her die first." The Nazis laugh at my temporary loss. The hallway is alive with my panic pulse. One Nazi comes toward me but my attention is on the dark corner. I see Petra standing in the dark like a school girl angel. However, Petra isn't alone, a woman in a red dress is standing behind her. _Oh God, I'm experiencing a Lynching._ To see the Red Lady means something terrible will happen.A forceful hand on my arm brings me back to reality. In seconds, my dagger's in a throat and a soldier's on the floor. The Frau orders her men to come after me. I take my dagger and went on a full sprint towards Petra. At least, I hope it's Petra.

Knowing this is going to be a fight, I tease the lever on the hilt of my cane. The dagger becomes a sword and the blood bath begins. I sliced through a second, third, and fourth. I don't know if I killed them or not but that doesn't matter, I need to get to Petra. The weight of dragging her to the elevator on the other side of the hall was a relief. Punching the button a thousand times, the door finally opens. I pull Petra inside, just in time to see an angry Frau coming towards us, until the door closes our safety. I lean my back against the wall, letting out a 'that was close' escape my mouth. Petra only stands there with glazed eyes; she defiantly needs some Holy Water. I close my eyes then open them again, sharp vision catching the silver insects recording us.

The door opens to the first floor. Remembering the old people I take Petra to the right side of the casino were the White Zombie bar is. "The Red Lady wants to give you a message," said Petra. Her voice sounded dazed

"Don't you know you're not suppose to follow the Red Lady, she's almost as bad as Bloody Mary" I said. The White Zombie bar is more of a place out of a Halloween store. Full size skeletons with tuxes hang from the walls. Fake blood and spider webs decorated on the bar counter. To make it even more amusing, the stools are supported by severed limbs. Suddenly I wish I didn't come here on the behalf of Petra's state.

"The Red Lady wants to give you a message," said Petra again. I ignore Petra and take her over to the bar. I hope the Lynching doesn't tell her the severed limbs are real or worse, moving. I get the bartender's attention, "I need Holy Water, please." While the bartender in heavy make-up searches for Holy Water, Petra mentions the Red Lady for the third time. I might as well entertain her while she's high.

"What's the message, Petra?" I ask. She gestures for me to come closer. She whispers in my ear, "The time to choose is coming." It's a stupid message, something that a nutcase on the street would say about the end of times. Stupid as it sounds, there's something important about it, yet I can't put a finger on it. The bartender sets the shot glass on the counter, pouring the Holy Water. Silver specks of sobering agents swirled like flakes in a snow globe. Petra holds the glass to her face but doesn't drink.

"Have you ever wondered why Alex doesn't talk?" asked Petra. I stare at her, cocking my right eyebrow. Crazy junkie.

"What're talking about? Alex talks all the time in the movie."

"I'm not talking about the movie. I'm talking about in your head." For a second time is standing still. I've never told her about my experience on Bliss nor any of the other sisters. Thinking back on my delusions, I realize Alex never speaks. Sure he can fuck like a God but he's never said a word. Taking in this new information I ask Petra, "How do you know about that?" Petra doesn't answer for a moment and it almost kills me. Her attention turned from me. My hand is on her shoulder, ready to ask her again.

"It's not your time to know yet," she said. Her voice sounded different, yet there was something familiar at it. Turning her head, it wasn't Petra, it was the Red Lady. Why does she look like _me_?"You just need to know he's suffered proper." Quickly I left my bar stool, staring mystified at Petra. Now she's the one looking at me like I'm crazy.

"Drink your Holy Water, we have-" a bullet whistles against my left ear and hits the bartender in the head. Petra takes a quick swig as the bartender hits the floor. I turn around to find the Frau with her surviving comrade. "Goodbye, Frau Alexis," she said, before shooting another bullet. I dart over to the bar, taking Petra with me. I'm carful not to trip over the dead man. The Frau's footsteps are coming closer as I look for a gun. Vegas bars are required by law to carry a gun. I find the gun while Petra begins to shake on the floor. A first symptom of Holy Water, I'm not looking forward to the last and final symptom.

"Come on out, Alexis so I can-" I hear the Frau get punched in the face. I stand up with my gun in my hand, leaving the bar. The old people are now in a panic. The Frau is on the ground unconscious with Diva standing over her. The only Nazi standing is the one Georgette has in a chokehold. If I was in the mood I'd have my fun with her but, the night is young, there are more important things to do. I put a bullet in the last soldier, killing him in a matter of seconds. I was about to shoot the Frau when Rubick said, "Let her live."

"But Mr. R-"

"She's a favorite enemy, Zoya. Society loves it when you two fight." Well Society can go fuck itself in the ass.

"But she doesn't fight fair, she uses guns to kill us. That's considered cheating."

"I'll reason with her later but as of now you have a job to do. Sound off." After my right ear clicks off I hear crying at the Zombie bar. Petra has entered the final stage of Holy Water: depression.

"Diva, be useful and get Petra," I said. I pulled her close to my face to give her a warning. "The next time you let Petra get high during a filming, I'm going to be the one to tie you down and fuck you with this." Diva stares at the hilt of the dragon with ruby eyes, knowing full well what I've done to others with it. She better be afraid of me. I push her away and went with Georgette.

"What's our mission, my humble friend?" I asked. Georgette read off, "Kat Blau, Royce Hinderson, and Luann Rubick." I paused at the last name and smiled. "Mr. R's third wife, eh? I guess it's better then a divorce."


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey there guys! Sorry for the long wait, finals and school just love my attention. I'm not fully done yet but I thought it would be good to give you guys a treat. **

**As always, thanks a million to my beta reader demonbarber14!**

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Chapter 3

Waiting for us at the Elvis exit is 2069 red Mustang convertible; the fastest and sweetest ride to commit murder in. Calling shot gun I am about to ask where our target was when Petra comes out bawling by Diva's side. "I always screw everything up," says Petra. I roll my eyes as I start the engine when I catch something strange in the corner of my eye and don't let go for a while.

Across the Elvis is an abandoned church decorated in graffiti. Two brothers stand on the steps of the church, one in black, the other in white. They're both staring in my direction, which gives me a creepy vibe I haven't felt in a while. It's the masks that gets me the most. The one in white has a mask made from crafted ivory of the Lord on the Cross. His wounds bleed granite. The one in black has a mask crafted ebony goat; he'd make a handsome Baphomet. The Devil leans to whisper to the humble Martyr. I can't help but stare at those blue eyes; they make the mask look alive and the scar on the Martyr's lips look like mine.

"Lexi, are you alright?" says Georgette. Immediately I put my foot on the gas and drive. Quickly I look behind to see the Divine Brothers are gone. The wind flies by with the rush of the city lights. Radio noise, construction, blazing horns, laughing, crying, all this goes with the Rush. Someone whispers, "Lexi, Lexi can you hear me?" The voice sounds concerned but it's not my name. The Rush gives me a headache and I look up to the stars, they look like they're falling. The silver stars turn red with a scream, bump and a shout, "ZOYA!" I'm back to reality with a foot on the breaks. All's dark except for the headlights on the road and the Desert Trees, they're all covered in red as the earth shook to an earthquake only I can see.

A hand gently pulls my hands away from the wheel. "Let me take the wheel, Zoya. You're experiencing a Lynching," said Georgette. I can't help but notice her mask is off. She looks so fascinating; I want to tell her but I end up with, "Your mask is off."

"I know, we had to stop filming. You ran over a homeless guy."

"Where," I said. I briefly look behind me where a foot away a dirty pile of clothes is bleeding. Everything gets hot all of a sudden. "You need to sit down and relax," says Georgette. A seatbelt straps me in; _Fȕr Elise_ plays on the car radio. I let the seat back with my heart returning to a normal rhythm. I focus on nothing but the music, I don't know if the boy playing at the piano is a dream or a memory but he seems so real. I love how his fingers dance on the keyboards. I just wish I could see his face, yet I can't.

"_You want to try?"_ I'm warm all over when he says it. It's like an angel's giving me permission to live in Heaven for a day. I only put one finger on one of the keys but no notes come out.

"Zoya, we're ready to film." It's Rubick speaking. I don't want to go. I want to stay here with my friend. I want to stay with D….

"Zoya, you need to get up," he says. I come back to reality with a scream. A small shock that actually feels like a thousand volts igniting in my right ear. The headlights reveal a blue house with a white picket fence in the middle of Nevada desert. I have no idea if I'm in the right place or not.

"What the fuck was that for, R?" I demand. My right ear pulsed with a warm heat. I put pressure on the ear lessen the pain.

"I'm sorry dear, but you left me with no choice. Society's getting impatient."

"You can tell Society to go fuck itself."

"It's already doing that, sweetheart."

"Now you're just being cute. Now where are we and what evidence are we looking for to put them on execution?" I ask. The pressure in my ear stops pulsing. All that's left is an annoying ringing sound.

"You're on 4444 Paradise Rd," he tells ma. "There's suspicion of Renesmees and a new drug called Serbian Black Dust. Keep Petra away from the drugs."

"I'll defiantly try," I say. The ringing stops when the click goes off. Knowing Petra she'll probably get her hands on it. A junkie can't resist the high. After a moment of thinking, "Georgette, kill the lights. I've got a plan to get in." I unbuckle the seatbelt and turn to Diva and Petra in the back. Petra's holding onto Diva like a child would hold onto her mother. They look at me with wary eyes.

"As you've heard from R, we are looking for illegal possessions of child porn and drugs," I say. Diva's eyes dart away as I stare at her. "In order to redeem yourself, Diva, I want you and Petra to keep the suspects distracted while Georgette and I sneak inside. If the suspects want you guys to experiment with Black Dust tell you're not interested. If they keep insisting you guys to take anything tell them you're helping you're friend to get clean."

"What kind of story should we tell them?" asks Diva. I look to the stars for a second then went back to her.

"Diva, your name is going to be Casey. Petra, you're going to be Beth. You both are lovers but Beth has a boyfriend who is also her dealer. Casey, that's you Diva, persuaded Beth to run away with you. While Beth's slowly kicking the habit, her dealer boyfriend has been chasing them and to make it worse he has a gang of royal cartels willing to help him kidnap beautiful Beth."

Petra pulls herself closer to Diva. Her eyes are wide with fear. "Don't let them kidnap me, Casey," she said. I should have been a writer.

"The details you can fill out yourself. It will be long enough for us to find enough dirt to do our own nasty justice. Now let's get moving."

The filming begins once we're out of the car. I open the trunk to get the 'lovers' disguises, my Suitcase of Destruction and my ever close friend cane. I shove the cane between my top and my back, feeling like a samurai. The Lovers dressed and ready to go we spilt to separate ways to the back of the house. The backyard is a garden of cacti with flowers and silver insects hovering over them.

"The keys are in the suitcase," says Rubick. The Lovers knock on the front door frantically. I open the suitcase and take the keys out of the inside right pocket. The front door opens and the Lovers come in while I unlock the door to a laundry room. Thankfully nothing goes off. The last house was so secure we had to find ways to break in four times. It turned into a two hour special when we finally broke in with the help of a girl scout.

"Where's the dirt?" I ask. Georgette's hazel eyes look up as if waiting for an answer from above. After a few seconds, Georgette said, "R says it's upstairs in the bedroom on the left." The door opens with a low creak. I wait for someone to notice and I go into the white hallway with Georgette behind me. The white hallway carpet leads to the living room were the suspects and Lovers are sitting. Shit! We're behind the suspects but the living room floor is made of hard wood. Hard wood and boots that'll give me away in a heartbeat. Damnit! I would take off my boots but, they lace up and are bitch to put back on again. Fuck!

"Georgette, is there another way to get upstairs?"

"No, you either have to be quiet or climb up the window." Closing the door, I look at her shoes. They're the comfortable black Converse that I so wish I were wearing right now. She's the only one allowed to wear flats because she's the tallest one out of all of us. Curse my shortness to hell.

"Alright, you quietly go upstairs, open the window and help me get inside. Take the suitcase with you." Georgette nods and walks down the hall. I watch her sneak up the stairs before leaving outside again. Crunch, crunch, crunch, I'm a foot away from the house waiting for the upstairs window to light up. Five minutes later the window opens and Georgette gestures me to come further. Sand crunches some more as I walk back when rope made of black sheets is thrown down. As quickly as I can I climb the rope without trying to make a noise. Georgette helps me inside…and grabs my ass.

"Quit being grabby, we work together," I hiss. Georgette backs away with her hands in the air. Her face is red as the walls, repeating, 'I'm sorry'. She always blushes with apologies whenever she touches me by accident. Once she saw me in the shower and stared at me for a long time before running off as red as the Devil. She's either uncomfortable with nudity or has a crush on me.

"Come on, let's look for the dirt," I say. I need a distraction from Georgette. If she weren't working for us, I'd go out with her. Both sexes look delicious to me, but since I have a Sparky, I mainly play with the girls. While Georgette searches the closet I look through the drawers. Kinky clothes, colorful vibrators, Dildos and porn but not the illegal kind. The last drawer catches me off guard. I didn't find the dirt but I've found books, books actually made out of paper!

"Wow," I said. Picking up _Garden of Eden_ by Ernest Hemingway I flip the first page then another. It felt alive whisking the pages. I haven't read the words yet but it wants to talk in its own flesh its secrets. Willing to listen, I went back to the first page when Georgette threw the dirt on my lap. Dust and pictures of baby rape murder my eyes. Jesus, I've got blood on my hands and this disgusts me.

"Ok, bring them up," I said. Georgette leaves the room while I put the Renesmees face down to my right side with the Dust on top. Shouts and screams happen downstairs. I take out two other books. One called _Naked Lunch_ by William S. Burroughs and the other _Coldheart Canyon _by Clive Barker. I stare at the last one for a long time with a name, "Virgil." I have no idea why that name came up.

Marching up the stairs with a woman shouting, "Please, please, don't hurt us! We're done nothing wrong!" I put the book down, take the dirt in my hands and sit in the front of the bed. Georgette, Diva, and Petra have the suspects on their knees. The Royce was in the middle, looked about mid-fifties with graying hair. His glasses were badly beaten just like his face. The women he's between had more or less. The woman on his right wears a pink dress and has wavy brown hair and teary eyes. The glitter on her skin says she's a Belle. Belles are girls from twelve to seventeen that swore an oath to be pure until marriage or become a Steele. I get the feeling Kat wants to be a Steele. The blonde woman on his left I recognize from the pictures on Rubick's desk, Luann Rubick.

Shuffling the pictures, I say, "So you did nothing wrong, eh?" Kat looks to the floor while Royce and Luann look afraid. I come over to the guilty with dirt. "I can understand Belles, especially when they become Steeles. I can even understand the reason to get high. Our dear sister Petra gets high all the time. But….Renesemees." I show them the pictures. All of them went white in the face. Kat nearly hyperventilates in horror. They're either acting or truly innocent. Either way doesn't matter to me. "I mean, couldn't you have waited until, I don't know until she became a Lolita or a Lo if it's a boy? Or are you one of those people that like it 'fresh from the oven'?"

"You're sick," says Luann. Her face contorted with murder in her eyes. She jumps up to attack when Georgette forces her back on her knees. Taking my dagger, the point digging under her chin. "We're all sick Mrs. Rubick. Some are just sicker others."

"My husband is the sickest of all," said Luann. "He has more blood on his hands then you. I hope after I'm dead you'll get your just desserts." Her mouth twitches in a smile. I've know idea what she means but I'm cold all over.

"Really?" I back away smiling, she should have kept her mouth shut. I put the suitcase on the bed and take out the tools. Pink and blue rope, Leather apron, Duct tape and the world's tiniest shears. "Diva, take this Renesemee lover downstairs and ride him like a pony." Diva grins like a demon and drags an unwilling Royce to his last lay. I throw the pink rope to Petra. "Get Kitty ready." Hat pleaded like a girl in a slasher flick.

"Please, don't hurt me, I'm…I'm a virgin!" Acting surprised, I go on my knees to her. "Oh angel," I said, cupping her face with drama. "Where have you been all my life?" My sisters and I laugh while Kat moans in despair. "Since I'm stricken with love, I must express it the only way I know how." All serious I get up and throw the blue rope to Georgette. "Turn on the music!" She takes out a white MP3 player the size and width of a coin. Tiny but high quality sound as it plays Abba's _Dancing Queen. _I have a thing for oldies.

Singing to the music, I strip off my clothes. Georgette eyes me a little while she ties Luann's hands and feet. She defiantly has a crush on me. Petra's having a little trouble stripping Kat as I tie on the apron. "Hold still, I need to strip you," said Petra. Screams upstairs, downstairs, screams just everywhere! Taking the duct tape I turn the volume up. First I tape Luann then I go to Kat and do the same.

"Oh love of my life, I can't wait to express my love for you," I proclaim. Kat pleads for her life as I drag her to the bed. I tie her hands while Petra ties her feet. Once Petra finishes her job I say to her, "On the bottom drawer you'll find books made out of paper."

"Paper? Like real paper?"

"Yeah, real paper. I want you to take all the books with the name Clive Barker and take them to the car." While Petra collects the paper, I talk to Kat one last time. "As for unlucky you, I'm more of a Bateman then a Grey." Taking the shears I throw them to Georgette. "Make sure Mrs. Rubick keeps her eyes open. I don't want her to miss the good part."

Lips on Kat's duct taped mouth, muffled screams with wet chomping sounds. Blade grazing the glittery pale skin, she's so thin I can almost count the ribs. Everything about her looks withered expect her eyes. I rub the bud between her legs. She's unbelievably dry but, she reacts and I insert with the blade. Warm blood rushes while Kat shakes and muffled screams. The smell of copper, _The Winner Takes It All, _panting and wet gushing fill the room. Kat's stopped moving but I need to make sure she's not living. Stabbing her stomach, I open her up. Abba stops playing. I find her heart, crush, and twist. Her blood feels less warm. Kat's face looks scared but she's totally gone.

"Ok, she's one-hundred percent dead," I said. I get out of the bed, I'm dripping with blood then I leave for the bathroom across the hall. "I'm taking a shower. Make sure to finish Mrs. Rubick completely. We don't want any revenge seekers on us. After that, I'll call you to bring me my clothes." A wet sound gushes once I close the bathroom door.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys! Finals is over for me so here's the next chapter! Enjoy!**

**As always, thank you demonbarber14 for being my beta!**

* * *

Chapter 4

Sitting on the toilet, I take off my boots while the apron gets rinsed in the sink. I plan to take a shower but, I'm going 'merrghahahaha, freedom' once my boots are off. I wiggle my piggies in abundant joy. Knock, knock, knock, Georgette's at the door. I roll my head back. "What did I say about calling you when I'm done or did you forget that, Georgette?"

"I need to come in, it's important," she says. "And you can call me Rachael, we're not filming."

"Did R tell you about the next assignment already?" I ask. Hand over my eyes, I inhale and let it out. Death has become a tiring business lately. I remember a time when spilling blood was a forbidden art, a shocking spectacle. Now it's all mindless and emotionless. If I were to kill someone in public everyone would clap and cheer. I should be happy about it, but I'm not.

"Not yet….I just wanted to talk to you in private," she says. Hand off of my eyes, I get off the toilet and cover myself with a towel. Don't want Georgette (oh sorry, Rachael) to blush.

"Come in, Rachael," I say. She comes in with my clothes nicely folded in one clean hand while the bloody one hangs free on her side. Her face turns slightly pink at the sight of me. I stand up and come forward to get my things. "This privacy better be important because I-" Right when I was about to get my clothes, Rachael pulled me in and kissed me and it wasn't the chaste peck on the lips either. I tried fighting her off but, she kept probing her spearmint tongue in my mouth. After an eternity of liplocking she lets me go. I'm flustered while Rachael looks relieved. She can't comprehend what she's done to both of us.

Wiping my mouth, I say, "Why did you do that?"

"I needed to do it," she says. "It was eating me alive. You have no idea what you do to me." Her eyes look lower down my body. My towel half fell off while her tongue invaded my mouth. I cover myself before her hands plan to invade Boobtown.

"Rachael, as much as I like you, we can't like each other in _that _way. SERTV and R made it clear when we sighed up for this. Remember what happened to 'Pink Razor Ladies' a year ago?" Rachael looks down, nodding her head. Before getting into the snuff business all of us signed a contract. No member of the group would start a relationship within the gang unless it was with a different gang which very rare and dangerous. The leader of the PRL got the hots for one of her co-workers. They ended up being 'laid off' or privately executed. Eventually the PRL got 'cancelled'.

"I know," she says in a soft whisper. "It had to be done though or else I would have ended up like Billi Jean one day." The name sends freezing ice through my blood. Billi Jean was Petra before Jazz took the part. Rachael was the one that found her overdosed in a tub. I can still see her pale body under water at this moment. I always thought the snuff business got to her but, now I think it might be worse. Not daring to think of the worst I snatched the clothes from Rachael and commanded, "Get out." I turn away from her with the image of her disappointment. My body stiffens as Rachael slams the door once she leaves.

Skipping the shower, I wash as much blood off my hands and knees and getting back into my clothes. Dead Billi Jean and Rachael keep popping in my head. Lacing my boots, I imagine pale Billi Jean sitting in the tub beckoning Rachael to come join the suicide party. I hurriedly wash the blood off the apron. I don't know why Billi Jean died but, I don't want to be the blame for Rachael offing herself. Once the apron is dried and folded, I open the door but I don't leave. It's the murder I committed that stops me. Everything just looks so sloppy.

Personally, I wish we killed the woman in another room. The red room and the blood almost blend as if it wants to hide the gruesomeness of the scene. The only things it can't hide are the butchered bodies. Being an artist of death, I would clean them up and put them in a different room depending on what room got my attention the most. Even before the murder I would get to know them first. Art can't be good if you don't know the subject. Either way, I can't do my signature kills for 'protection reasons', another pointless rule to my well being.

At least I can do one thing, make sure the other two are dead. Walking over to Mrs. Rubick I check her pulse. There's no heartbeat but, the eyes look too alive for my comfort. Knowing I need more work done I tie the apron back on. Taking the dagger from the foot of the bed, I dig out the eyes and scramble her brain. When I'm making her deader I spot the Black dust on top of the books I selected on the floor near the bed. I add the dust to her missing eyes and now I'm confident that she's positively dead. I take the books and head down stairs with a little more ease. There's still the Renesmee lover to deal with.

Downstairs I find Diva on the couch. She looks pleased with a black E-stick in her mouth while Royce laid on the ground whining, bruised, and very alive. "Why is he still alive, Diva?" I ask. Diva puts away the E-stick and stands up straight like a solider.

"I was about to finish him off before you came down," she says. Her eyes get a little bigger as I come closer to her. I take the E-stick from her hand and drag. I exhale spearmint smoke in her face. I wish Diva got another flavor. I put the E-stick in my pocket for later.

"What did I say about leaving suspects alive?"

She looks away from me, "No survivors. Period."

"Exactly, Diva," I say. Giving the books to Diva, I take out a thin string of silver wire from my pocket and sat on top of Royce's chest. "There's a reason why I'm a better leader then Alex DeLarge, Diva." I wrap the string twice around his neck and start sawing his head off, making a zipping wet sound. He struggled wildly under me. "In the movie, he made the mistake of letting them live. Sure the wife is six feet under but the husband still lived and eventually figures out little Alex in the end. Now if he was like me, he wouldn't have just killed them, he'd make sure they were absolutely and positively dead." The head finally severs off with a gush and clank and blood everywhere, including myself. I'm glad I didn't shower.

Once I wipe the blood off the steel wire on dead Royce's shirt, I stand up and take the books from Diva. "As for you, Diva, you ever cross me like Dim did to Alex; you'll be watching your back because to mess with me is to mess with the Devil. You understand?" Diva nods frantically and runs out the door. I look at Royce's body for a moment then leave the house of mindless slaughter.

* * *

We drove back to Vegas not saying a word to each other. I'm riding shot gun concentrating on the road while the B and A wears off. The flashing lights of Vegas keeps me awake and alert as if the city knows I'm tired. When I park the car in our hotel I lay my head down on the wheel. I've so very tempted to just sleep in this car.

"Tired already, Zoya?" asks Rubick. I sit up straight in my chair with my eyes still closed. I've only shut my eyes for a few seconds and he sounds unbearably loud.

"Nope…nope I was not sleeping," I say then yawned, "What's the next target?"

"The last target for tonight is a cancelation. Society wants the _Shore People_ off the air."

"Oh finally, Society done something right for once. Nothing but reality TV garbage," I say. This might be hard to believe but, there are regular 'reality' shows on television or garbage TV. The _Shore People _are basically Jersey/ Detroit trash that fuck, fight, and yackity yack yack. Ever since New America overthrew the old USA and its constitution, SERTV has been taking out the trash.

"We all agree," he says. "You should let your sisters take care of it. A leader needs to rest sometimes." This is the first time in two years he's told me to take it easy. Something's up and I don't like it.

"Since when did you give breaks, R?"

"This will be a first, Zoya. You are my star after all." His flattery doesn't convince me. Something's defiantly up but, I don't argue. I need a break.

"You heard the man, the shore must die without me," I say. My sisters moan in protest, Diva doing the most groaning.

"But why do you get a break? We worked just as hard as you do," says Diva.

"Yeah," says Petra. "What do we do with these books?"

"Now guys," says Georgette. "I'm sure there's a real reason why Alexis is having a break." Oh Georgette, you're such a sweetheart. If only we didn't work with each other I'd actually kiss her back.

Once again, Petra asks, "What do we do with these books?" For a moment I thought about taking the books up to my suite. It's been a while since I read a book that's actually a book. That's when I realize how tired I am. I'm either going straight to bed or take some Bliss and have some fun with Bright Eyes. Now that my mind's on Bright Eyes, I need to talk to him.

"Leave them in the car, we'll get them tomorrow," I say. I bring up the car roof and roll up all the windows. I'm not worried about books being stolen or the car. This car will kill anyone that isn't us. Yeah, even our cars are lethal.

* * *

While my sisters get off the eleventh floor to cancel the Shore, the elevator takes me up to the next floor to my suite. This gives me enough time to think about what Petra said earlier tonight. I ask myself as I walk down the silver gold hallway, "Why don't you talk, Bright Eyes?" Once I've reached my suite 1212, I finally came to the decision to have a little Bliss and a chat.

Room 1212 is like any other five star hotel I've lived before, all fancy for a day or two then hit the road again when the show's over. Of course, there's always something different in each one. For instance, there's a pool in the middle of the room while a strange plain jane sips on champagne. She drops the glass and covers herself up and stands when she sees me. This reminds me so much of earlier. "I'm sorry," she says. She hasn't done anything yet and I'm already annoyed with her. I close the door behind me with a loud slam.

"Who are you?" I ask.

"I'm a Steele and I'm at your service." Oh this is an icing on the cake. Rubick knows how much I hate Steeles. Being a former Mormon and Belle my fellow church leaders tried to make me a Steele when I turned eighteen because I wasn't 'marriage worthy'. The right of passage to become a Steele is to be beaten by a chosen Master. Turns out I'm not very good at being submissive. I ended up beating him thirty times with a riding crop after he hit me once across the ass. This day's just bringing back memories.

"Get out and get dressed," I say. She hesitates with the towel for a moment as if she wants to say something then leaves to the bathroom. Once Steele closes the door, I go into the kitchen and search for some Bliss. There are four Blisses in the shelf with four different flavors: Original White, Chocolate, Strawberry, and Mango. The Mango gives me an idea.

"What punishment would you like to inflict on me, Mistress?" asks Steele. She surely doesn't waste any time. I take the Mango and Strawberry out of the cooler, baring my teeth. The Steele lies on my bed made of silk. She's looks so uncomfortable in that skimpy red outfit.

"Before we do any of that, Miss Steele, I want you to drink this Mango," I say. I open the bottle and give it to her. She sips and grimaces.

"It tastes funny."

"They all taste funny but, it's good for you. Filled with so much vitamins it'll blow your mind to insanity. You'll feel amazingly good once you drink the whole thing," I say. I open my Strawberry and put it to my lips but I don't drink it. I want Steele to feel confident drinking her poison. Steele nods hesitantly and drinks the whole thing down. She's defiantly going to experience a bad Lynching, especially if she's drinking it down that fast. When every last drop of the Mango is gone, I ask, "So where's the dungeon?" Steele takes my hand eagerly and takes me to the edge of the pool. She unlocks the trap door with a golden key and reveals what's down below. I don't see the tools of torture but, in the corner of my eye I can see a chair with straps on it.

Steele is about to go down the latter when I say, "Give me the keys, darling. I'm the Mistress after all." Without question she gives me the keys. She goes down a few steps when I close the trap door and lock it. Her panic echoes as I throw the keys on the bed. The Steele's distress makes everything almost feel better. I take off my Derby hat and take a slow sweet sip of my Bliss. Once the salty copper after taste passes I feel the Lynch tingle my whole body and close my eyes. It didn't take long for my desires to kick in. His lips were pressed gently against mine. I take off my mask to get a better look at Alex. Steele began screaming in the dungeon below.

"Hello there, Bright Eyes," I say. He smiles and attempts to kiss me again but stop him in mid motion. He's just as pained as I am. I personally want to jump him right now but I need to get this out of the way. Bright Eyes might be something the Lynch pulls out of my sub conscience, he's very important to me. Sad as this sounds, he's the closest thing to a meaningful relationship I can get. Steele starts making pleas as we sit up on the bed. "Help me, please. Help me!"

"There's something bugging me about you, Bright Eyes. Why don't you talk?" I say. Being Alex, I expected him to be agitated with me yet he looks so nervous it's making me nervous a little. Still I went on interrogating him. If he starts cussing me out I'll be fine. At least he'll prove Petra wrong and start talking.

"I mean, aren't you tired of hearing me doing all the talking? Just because I'm from Kansas doesn't mean I always like the sound of my voice. I know you must have something to say to me like 'when are we going to have a threesome?' or 'you're boring me to death.' Maybe you want to say something while we do it, probably something dirty or something sweet."

Bright Eyes isn't looking at me at this point. It's as if he's ashamed of something. Maybe he's too ashamed to talk to me. He grabs my wrist as I try to stand up. This gesture ends up making me explode. I hate being stopped.

"You know what, Alex or whatever the fuck you are, I think you're a selfish cunt! I'm not even calling you a dick because you look like a girl. It's no wonder you get your ass beat all the time!" Bright Eyes lets me go but, he's not angry. He actually looks mortified by my outburst. Scared or angry, I don't give a shit. I walk way from the bed with heels clicking on the floor and take out the spearmint E-stick. It's still not calming me down because of the kiss earlier and I keep ranting. "In fact, I can imagine other fictional characters kicking your ass harder then you can stand. Norman Bateman will hack you with an ax. Kakihara will pierce and slice you to bits. Tyler Durden will punch the smirk from your face after his abs murder your ego and-"

"I get the point, Zoya," he says. Suddenly everything froze once he spoke. Even the Steele girl was quiet. His voice sounded old yet it wasn't harsh. Why on earth did it sound so ancient? Turning around to Bright Eyes, I got my answer. Bright Eyes wasn't Alex anymore but, Dr. Loomis from the _Halloween _remake. I'm sure I could have chosen better words for a sudden new change but I ended up with this:

"Damn, you're old Bright Eyes." Knowing old people I haven't met they usually get offended at their state. Hell, I think the real Malcolm McDowell might get offended by my comment. Not in the case of Bright Eyes! He starts laughing then I start laughing and I think the Steele girl starts laughing but no body cares. Full of the giggles, I sit next to the bed with him. The click of my heels aren't as loud as before. Once the laughter goes out of my system I go all serious.

"Why are you old and being Dr. Loomis, Bright Eyes?"

"I have a little more freedom when I'm old then when I'm young," he says. "There's more to it of course but, will come later eventually. As for being Dr. Loomis, you need someone to talk to that's close to a professional help."

"OK," I say. It's weird seeing him old. I'm so use to seeing him be Alex that seeing him play a different McDowell character is like watching the seasons change rapidly. Old or young, he's still pretty to look at. Might as well humor the good doctor and lay down on the bed with no sexual intentions. Might as well talk it out before I end up like Billi Jean. "I'll take your 'professional help' but I want to say something before we continue."

"What's that?"

"I know why Michael Myers isn't talking and wants to kill you. He caught you fucking his mom." Letting that sink in we burst into laughter. We were about to go into 'therapy' when Rubick's voice filled my ear.

"Are you awake, Zoya?"

"I'm awake now," I say. I stare at Bright Eyes. He looks very annoyed by the interruption. Now that I think about it, there's never been a time when Bright Eyes wasn't annoyed by Rubick. I can kind of share the sympathy with him. "Where's the next place to go?" Instead of giving me the news, he gives me this weird question.

"What were you dreaming about?" I look back at Bright Eyes his unease matched with mine. Asking about someone's dreams is more for lovers and shrinks not governmental bosses. Doubting myself that I heard it right I ask him.

"Did you just ask me what I was dreaming about?"

"Yes, what were you dreaming about?" Creepy as this whole thing is I decide to tell him my made up dream just to rock his socks off.

"I was dreaming of you, sugar. Now tell me where the next place is?" For a minute or two it's quiet on the other end with the exception of a low hiss of the ear mic. After what felt like a long pause he finally gives me a response.

"The next place is in your hometown." I sit straight up with all the emotions mixing hot and cold into my skin.

"You mean…Wichita?"

"Yes, sugar." Damn smartass. "We're going back to Kansas. Now….what was I doing in you-"

"I'm tired, can we talk about the dream later?" Or better yet never, you creeper. I hear him sigh on the other end and click off. I'm disappointing everyone today, am I? I put my hands over my eyes.

"Do you still want to talk, Zoya?" says Bright Eyes. I pull my hands away from my face. There's so much going on with me that I have no words for it now. I had no idea I was crying until he wiped the tears from my eyes. He's so strange. His hair is white and thinning. His face is marked with wrinkles just like I'm marked with scars yet somehow he's gorgeous. It must be the crystal eyes that make him look desirable. Yeah, the eyes of an immortal. I drag him down from a kiss, his white beard tickles my face a little. Rolling on top of him, I take of my crop top while he peels away the synthetic make-up from my face. The pull of the mask makes small sticking sounds. My skin, my eyes, and my hair actually feel like they can breathe. He traces the scars on my face.

"It's a sin that he covers you up like this," he says. "A Goddess like you should never be covered in latex." His words fill me with warm joy. From now on he's going to be old more often. I take the loose fake skin hanging from my neck and lifted it up like a freshly killed animal.

"Help my peel this sin off and worship me," I say. That's were we really got at it. His hands caressed under the fake skin, slowly peeling it off. Once I'm truly naked we became animals. We did it on the bed, the pool, the bathroom, the kitchen, not even the floor is safe from our lustful savagery. While we were screaming in passion, Steele was screaming with fear. The sex got better every time he spoke. It didn't matter he talked dirty or sweet nothings his voice is damn sexy. Eventually good things must come to an end. It's almost three in the morning and I'm fighting sleep. Every time I close my eyes Bright Eyes is gone the morning. I know it's the Bliss wearing off but, I don't want to wake up alone.

"Stay with me," I say. At this point I'm willing to sacrifice sleep. My eyelids want to betray me with rest. Bright Eyes is Alex again. His thumb stokes the scar on my lip, mouthing the words, 'I can't.' The silent words make me cry.

"I'm not asking you to live with me forever. I just want to kiss you in the morning and make breakfast in bed. I want to go out on a date holding hands. I want to drink coffee together. I want to watch a movie together. I want…..I want…."

I want so many things that saying them all will hurt. Bright Eyes holds me close while I make a baby out of myself. Knowing that I won't get what I want I closed my eyes but, sleep hasn't taken me yet. The feel of his skin against mine was comfort enough to let sleep almost take over. Before the Sandman came, Bright Eyes whispered in my ear. His young voice sounded painful when he spoke.

"Dream….of us."


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey Guys, here's a new update! Also thank you demonbarber14 for being my beta and hope you are having some fun in London!**

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Chapter 5

Cold water pours over my face with Jazz saying, "Its wake up time!" She's sitting next to me on the bed with a pink bucket in her lap. With the pig tails and the girly pink dress she looks like she's ready for Easter. The injections marks on her arm kind of spoil the innocent girl effect. Even though cold water drips from my face my mind's still asleep. I lay back down with half closed eyes, mumbling, "Still dreaming."

"No you not," says Jazz. She forces my eyes open. God, she looks like she's ten. "Got to get up, boss. We're going to see the Wizard!"

I push her off, saying, "The Wizard can fuck himself. Now get me some water from the fridge, my mouth feels like the desert." Jazz skips to the kitchen while I drag myself out of bed. My body moans from the rigorous activities last night with Bright Eyes. One of the many, many special side effects from Bliss. Just so long as I don't get suicidal thoughts I'm good.

Closing my eyes I try to piece the fragments of my dreams. I can remember about three fragments. One fragment showed the Divine Brothers holding hands at a decrepit church. They were in the mist of revealing themselves but, quickly cuts to the second fragment. The next dream, I'm waving at myself in the mirror as Alexis. My reflection said, "Hi Zoya, I hope to see you soon." The last fragment is the one that gives me the creeps. The Steele girl I locked out last night was involved and it almost looked like one of my signature kills. She's strapped to the slab with her mouth split open and her organs pierced to the wall. The Glasgow smile and the ripped stomach would've been my doing but not piercing the organs. The organs I would've burned or eaten while I kept the bones, teeth and hair as trophies. To keep things creepier, the Steele girl was still alive. She looked at me, eyes blazing with fear. Before Jazz poured water in my face she told me this chilling message.

"She wanted you to know….you can't have Damien."

Processing the message in my head I asked myself, "What with the deal with the Anti-Christ?"

"Did you have fun with Bright Eyes?" I snap from my thoughts to see Jazz with a big one liter of water. She's smiling at my startled face, I hope I heard her wrong.

"What did you say?"

"I said, 'Did you have fun with Bright Eyes?' From the smell of sex and scratches on your body you guys really had a fun time." Looking down on myself, there were defiantly scratches and bite marks everywhere, including my back. Snatching the water I took a long guzzal in one breath. It wasn't vodka but it would do. Bright Eyes never marked me, even if he were to do something like this I always woke up without any injury. Imaginary desires aren't real, they shouldn't be able to cause something like this. Knowing Bright Eyes can mark me this badly I actually begin to get scared. This means he can inflict greater pain or worse kill me.

I turn around little too quickly as the rest of my sisters came in with really exciting news. Everything stung from the bruises and scratches. "Zoya, you need to see…what the hell happened to you?" says Natti. She's grinning ear to ear. I can imagine she's picturing what happened last night. She plops herself next to me and immediately I leave the bed wobbly. I needed a shower. A great way to escape Natti's prying. Almost close to the bathroom, Rachael grabs my arm. It stings like a bitch!

"What!"

"Who did this to you?" Her concern for my well being makes me hot and cold at the same time. I underestimated her feelings for me. Rachael doesn't have a crush on me, she loves me. This is worse than I thought, people in love are more likely to put themselves in danger. I yank my arm away from her. Her worry and heartbreak seemed to worsen in her hazel eyes.

"It's none of your business," I say. Rachael opened her mouth than closed it. Even though she's holding her tongue, she'll eventually push the issue on me later. Rachael is just one of those people that won't stop searching until they get to the bottom of it. Needing to get away from everyone, I walk to the bathroom looking calm as possible. When I finally get in the shower I fall apart crying. Rachael's going to die from love and I might be losing my mind.

* * *

Regaining my cool in the shower an hour later, I wrapped a towel around me and head out for my waiting sisters. Rachael's the only one there. She's in the processes of folding my clothes in my luggage. While she's so careful packing my stuff her hands looked a little shaky. I guess she was crying too. Taking a deep breath I say, "Thanks for helping me pack."

Rachael folds the last of shirt and turns toward me. Her eyes defiantly red from crying. I keep a blank face but I'm feeling bad on the inside. Grabbing a pink bra and underwear I say, "Look Rachael, we've talked about this last night. Our relationship can't go beyond friendship." In the process of strapping on my bra, Rachael asks something surprising.

"Was R the one here last night?" The way Rachael said it sounded like a growl. The anger in her eyes lit up like a bon fire. I try to focus on hooking my bra together but failing miserably. Rubick's creepy message from last night distracted me. This is one of those weird moments where I'm grateful to have Sparky, at least a little. My pussy might be an electric chair but that doesn't mean Rubick wants to put his dick in other places. Rachael turns me around and hooks my bra up and turns me again to face her. Her pretty face looked urgent and angry at the same time.

"Zoya, I need to know. Was R the one that did this to you?"

"No!" I say. I push her away and grab my Queen shirt and jeans. I put them both on in one quick session. Now I'm the one that's angry with her. "If you want to know who I was with last night so badly, I was with Bright Eyes! There, you happy?" Expecting her either walk off or get in a cat fight with me, she surprises me with a hug and a sigh of relief.

"Oh, thank God that's who you were with," she says. "I was about to go kick some ass and start a revolution."

I pull away from her gently. "Ok, I'm confused right now. How do you know Bright Eyes and why do you have beef against R?" Rachael laughs at my bafflement. She runs her hands though her hair smiling the whole way.

"Well, for one, Bright Eyes is defiantly real. Only I don't call him Bright Eyes, I call him Angel and we do a lot of Tank Girl role play together." I watch her savor the memories with my supposedly imaginary boyfriend doing fan fiction porn. I should be clawing her face off with jealousy but I seriously don't feel envious. It just seems stupid to bitch over something not of this world.

"But….how can he be real? He only appears when the Lynch takes over. He's supposed to be a figment of my hallucinogenic imagination."

"He's actually done the same to me too. When I asked him why he did it, his response was he didn't like it when people he loves pass him as fiction. You shouldn't worry though, he has no intention on killing us."

"How do you know?"

Rachael takes out a pen and takes my arm. "Just call his real name. He'll tell you why," she says. After writing the name down I want to scream in horror. On my right arm was written: DAMIEN. This just brings things to a whole new level of 'I'm so fucked'. Rachael saw how freaked out my face looks. She was about to ask me if I was ok when we heard a key turn and we spot Jazz opening the trap door. Where ever Jazz is going it's not good, not good at all.

Rachael walked over to the trap door while I stayed behind. I feel there's something down there that's not right. Once Rachael goes down calling for Jazz I finally yet unwillingly followed her. "Jesus, it smells bad down here," says Rachael. I cover my nose from the sudden stench. I knew that smell very well, the smell of death for some time. But that's impossible, I had no intentions of killing her. Just to say my thoughts out loud Rachael asks, "Did you kill someone last night."

Immediately, I say, "No, my intentions were to scare her, not kill her. If she's dead it had to be on accident or she killed herself." The smell was at its worst when we reached the bottom. It reminded me of the smell of three week old road kill drying up on the side of the road but ten times worse. It's a miracle I didn't barf.

"Then how do you explain that?" asks Rachael. She's pointing at the left side of the room. There was blood on the slab, the walls and the ceiling. Blood everywhere but no sign of the Steele girl. I'm shaking in my skin. I'd be cool as a cat if this was my doing but this piece of work belonged to someone way more evil then I (sounds strange but true). To make things even worse, this person's still here.

Sharp claws pierced into my right arm. I scream, "Something's on my arm! Get it off! GET IT OFF!" While Rachael tried to free me from whatever's clawing me to the bone, Jazz only watched utterly terrified and totally sober. It could've been seconds or hours but eventually the thing let go. The underside of my arm was clawed to the point where I can see muscle in replacement of Damien. Was Bright Eyes angry with me?

"It was the Red Lady," says Jazz. Her voice sounded like a child that found the Boogy Man is real. Rachael saves me in time as my legs betray me. She helps me to climb the ladder while Jazz stays put, babbling again, "It was the Red Lady."

"There is no such this as the Red Lady," says Rachael. "Now get your ass moving before I leave you there!" I wanted to correct her. Whatever he goes by, Bright Eyes, Angel or Damien, if he exist then there's a possibility everything else will exist too. Instead, I hang on to Rachael for dear life. Things were getting out of focus as we left the room. Once we were in the hallway I spotted a graffiti painting of a girl in a hot pink raincoat and umbrella.

I point at the girl, laughing like a drunk. "Look…I know that girl," I say. "I was into so much pink back in the day." At that moment everything became too much, my mind and body went night-night.

* * *

I woke up to a stinging sensation on my arm. Through a blur it looked like a knife stabbing my arm in fast speed. There wasn't any red oozing out. I wonder if I'm dead and this is God punishing me at last. My voice sounded groggy when I spoke, "What's…..happening?" Someone takes my left hand, I squeeze back in response and turn to see Rachael sitting next to me. She looks so tired.

"You're in the RV and being treated at the same time," says Rachael. She gives me the sweetest smile in the world. I can't help but smile back.

"Well, this is my lucky day," I say. I look at my right arm. It's not a knife but a Healing Needle picking my arm. The Healing Needle can heal almost anything. Halfway healed I can see it left half a name: DAM. Half that name makes me nervous, this proves there's power in that name and he's on my arm forever. I have a feeling things are going to get ugly soon.

"Are you alright?" asks Rubick. His voice almost makes me jump, almost snagging myself on the Needle.

"Yeah…I'm fine," I say. I hope I didn't sound nervous. "I just got attack by….something."

"That I believe," says Rubick. "But what about the other marks on your body?" Silent for a few seconds I thought up a good enough lie.

"They were from the Steele girl. We had a lot of fun last night. Even said it was the best last night of her life." I waited for what felt like an eternity for him to say something. I didn't like the silence, it meant he didn't believe me. After a long minute, he finally spoke and changed the subject.

"You have two assignments in Wichita. One at Wichita State and the other at Century 2. You'll be there for a week." Ah Gee, there's no place like home. Once Rubick clicked off I can finally breathe. I swear he can be unpredictable at times, especially when he's calm. Thinking of Rubick I turn to Rachael.

"You said something about R, Right?"

"Yeah," says Rachael. Still holding my hand, she looked like she wanted to talk yet didn't want to at the same time. I sense Rubick did something to Rachael.

"What did he do to you?"

Rachael let go of my hand. Her eyes downcast and baring her teeth. After seconds went by she says, "He does it to most of the female casts. Some more times than others. With me I endured him twice." I look up to the ceiling and felt a sense of unease. There's no use playing around it, Rubick's been raping my sisters and maybe I'm next.

"Who else in our group had to 'endure' R?"

"He hasn't got to Jazz yet but she was forced to watch Natti suffer at least once which is lucky. I had to watch the other five times."

"And what about Billi Jean?"

"He liked her the most. He must have forced her over forty or so times." Hearing the news, everything dawns on me at once. I put my hand over my face with a silent 'oh god'. No wonder Billi Jean killed herself. As bad as this sounds I'm a little relieved. For a while I thought Billi Jean had the hots for me too. I turn to Rachael again, her eyes gleaming with shame.

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

"Because you have Sparky," she says. Her voice sounded painful. "Did he say anything weird to you last night?"

"Yeah, he asked me about my dreams," I say. "I joked that I was dreaming about him but he took me seriously and wanted to know what we were doing in dream land." Rachael's eyes were wide open with horror. She takes my hand one last time.

"Listen to me very carefully, Zoya. If he ever tries to give you a drink, pretend to drink it. I don't know what kind of drug he gives us but it makes our bodies useless while our minds are awake. That's only the first time. If he likes it enough, he'll let you put up a fight at least for a while. Natti fought tooth and nail but unfortunately we had to pin her down. She wouldn't talk to Jazz and I for a week. With me I didn't fight back at all, probably the reason he lost his interest in me."

I ball my hands into fists. I want to punch him in the face. "Is there anything else I should know?"

"Be wary if he doesn't put on a condom," says Rachael. Tears poured down her face like rain. "The second time he did it, he didn't wear one. After he was done with me I felt this strange emotion that wasn't my own, like I wasn't me. He didn't just violated my body, he violated my soul. I don't know if its his penis or his semen but he made me _love_ him. When he was done he left me lying there and I begged him to stay." Rachael paused, her body shook in pain from telling the truth. People say the truth shall set us free, they forgot to mention how painful that freedom could be. Rachael continued. "He told me I wasn't worth a third time and I felt heartbroken….so heartbroken." Rachael covered her face and cried. I reached out to touch her arm.

"Why didn't you tell me this?" Rachael pulls her hands away, her face red like pomegranate.

"Because I thought Sparky would protect you but, I think Rubick has some other plans if he's asking about you. That's kind of what he did to Natti and I. He asks if you find him interesting and if you say yes, he'll find a way to get you alone with him. So if I were you I'd keep Sparky a little longer, he prefers vaginal the most." Rarely I'm glad to have a Sparky and today was one of those times. The Healing Needle stops once my arm is healed and embrace Rachael in a hug, the closest I can get to being intimate without risking our lives. While Rachael cries on my shoulder I look at the new tattoo on my arm: DAMIEN. At least I won't forget the name.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey guy! here's another update and thank you demonbarber14 for being my beta!**

**Warning: If you are Mormon or very religious and get very touchy don't read this chapter. It's basically the same warning I give to anyone reading _Julie_ (which reminds me I need to get back to it sometime). You are totally free to read something else. Anyways, Enjoy!**

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Chapter 6

"Is there something bothering you, Zoya?" asked Ripley. Ripley's our computer that operates our RV, doing everything from driving shot gun to informing us of malfunctions. We call it Ripley because it sounds like Sigourney Weaver talking. I like that Ripley has the wheel while I sit shotgun and observe my new tattoo. The name was marked in black ink and in Rachael's hand writing. It's slightly sensitive to the touch. Running my fingers over it, it has a texture of an old scar. Scars I have a-plenty, but this is my first tattoo and every time I look or touch it I get all knotted up on the inside. Not a pleasant feeling at all unless I call him. Every horror movie I've ever seen comes to mind whenever something terrible is discovered. They usually end up dead once they summon up something or other but that usually happens to stupid people that come unprepared and I plan to be very well prepared.

"Ripley," I said. "Why weren't you able to get….the name off? It was only marked in marker before I got attacked by…whatever I was attacked by."

"I did try to get it off, Zoya but the micro-organisms only dig deeper into the skin," said Ripley. Hearing the word 'micro-organisms' I sat up straighter then I did in music class as a high school freshmen.

"Micro-organisms? You mean I have bacteria in me right now?" I asked. I'm almost in full panic mode when I remembered Rachael. She was the one who marked me. Every nerve in me became deadly quite.

"They're not any bacteria that I've known of, but I was able to get one sample before healing the rest of your wounds," said Ripley. The front window seal lit up with a picture of the thing. I tense at the sight of one of the things that permanently left Damien on my arm forever. It was reddish looking, with eight hairy legs and what looked like crab claws attached. It's as far as I can get to describe this Lovecraft horror that was before me. I stood up, open the door and looked to see what my sisters were doing.

All three of them were sitting a violet couch. Natti watched the Starving Channel on her laptop (a channel to watch other people eat). I could tell by the drool running down her mouth. She only gets like that when she's hungry. _The Ring_ had Jazz's attention on the flat screen. The way she sat forward with her mouth open and eyes wide with fascination made her even creepier than usual. Lastly, my attention came to Rachael, sitting relaxed on the couch with _The Great and Secret Show _in her hand. I wanted to go over there and rip it out of her unworthy clutches. It took great effort to not slam the door.

"Are these things still in my arm?" I asked. The name was more sensitive than before. Ripley replied, "No, they actually crawled out and died after I was done healing the skin. I think their main purpose was to give you a tattoo." I sat back down in shot gun. The good news of not dying from unknown bacteria didn't give me much comfort. I wanted to know why Rachael marked me with a possibly deadly name. I planned to know once we had privacy.

"I need to recharge, Zoya."

"Ok, Ripley, where's the nearest charging station?"

"The nearest is five miles to Salt Lake City, Utah." _Oh shit, we're in Mormonland!_

"How low in power are you?" I asked. "I mean if you are like fifty percent low then we could make it as far as Colorado."

"I'm sorry but I'm twenty-five percent low on power. Salt Lake City is the closest I can get to a charging station and by then I'll be down to approximately three percent. Is there something wrong with Utah?"

"Yeah, it's crawling with Mormons." My stomach grumbled in agreement. All I'd had was water and Bliss and Abstinence for the past two days. Part of the wonderful diet of snuffing. I thought about taking some nutritional pills but my stomach grumbled louder for real food to the point of hurting. "Oh….when's the Monthly Feasting? I want something delicious in my mouth and down my stomach and out the other end."

"The Monthly Feasting is actually today," said Ripley. Before I could say hallelujah, she added, "Aren't you a Mormon yourself, Zoya?" I leaned back in my chair. There was a time when I felt very convinced being Mormon meant I was closer to God. All that talk of being the 'true religion' sounded very promising up until Sparky came along and the blood shedding soon after. After I moment of silence, I stood up and gave my answer.

"I was but, I found out things change when you grow up." I opened the door with a loud slam. Natti stopped drooling and closed her laptop. Jazz sat up straight with a smile. _Why does she get creepier by the minute?!_ Rachael put the book down slowly to her lap, her eyes never leaving mine. _I wonder if she knows I'm on to her._

"Sister, I have good news and bad news. Which one do you want to hear?"

"Bad news first," said Natti.

"You always want to hear the bad news first," said Rachael. "Why don't we hear the good news for once?" This is usually typical of Natti and Rachael. They always have something to argue over and at times it can get pretty ugly. The debate had barely begun and poor creepy Jazz looks back and forth in terror.

"Shut up, I'll give the bad news," I said. I smile on the inside at Rachael's disappointment. A small appetizer for the main course for a later smackdown. "Ripley is down to twenty-five percent on power and the nearest charging station is five miles to Salt Lake City." As I expected, they all groaned at once.

"Why? For the love of God, WHY!" said Natti.

"They're weird and creepy," said creepy Jazz.

"And they're haters," said Rachael. Her voice filled with more malice then the others. "They think black people are children of Cain and being LGBT is a mental defect."

"Well their discrimination and ignorance is their fault," I said. About time I gave the good news. "At least be thankful they're not Jehovah Witnesses or Scientologists and trust me those people are crazier than Mormons. I know because I used to be one." All of them turn red in the face, Rachael was the reddest of all. I was smiling on the inside again. "What I recall from my family vacations to Salt Lake is the unbelievable numbers of restaurants and buffets, every single one of them excellent and a great spot to get free food if you're a Professional Foodie. So while on the drive we're going to make fake Foodie licenses for our Monthly Feasting!"

All three of them cheered with joy at the sound of food, Natti being the loudest. I figured this should be a great gift for her after all, she had to endure Rubick. Once the burst of cheers were over, I sat between Jazz and Natti. I put my arm around both of them. "Natti, you can put away that torture porn and Jazz, let's watch something less creepy and Rachael, how's the Show?"

"It's like a desert storm," said Rachael. "It's dry but fascinating and dangerous to watch."

* * *

The RV was parked in Smith's Station to charge for two hours, plenty of time for tasting and leftovers (even though leftovers are illegal in snuff but we'll break it once). While Ripley re-charged, we took our red stallion for a drive. Natti and Jazz sat in the back while Rachael sat by my side as always. I wanted Rachael to feel safe until I had my chance to pounce her. "That's a pretty looking church," said Jazz. She was talking about the Salt Lake Temple shining terribly white in the distance. It's like the very first thing that catches the eye of everyone that comes to Mormonland.

Natti leaned forward to get a closer look at the growing temple. "Is that were all the Mormons go to worship?"

"No," I said. "That's where you go to get married and sealed to your spouse forever. It's also a place to baptize the dead."

"You mean you dig up dead people and dunk them in holy water?" Natti asked. I laughed, both at her childish surprise and the implied Holy Water.

"No, Mormons don't do any grave robbing," I said. I still had the giggles in me. By then the Castle of God got large. It promised me that I still had a chance to go in. "They go in there, use their body as a vessel for the deceased and then get dunked in a pool of warm water."

"That sounds like possession," said Rachael. While Natti and Jazz looked on with wonder she looked on with indifference. Her elbow on the open window and head resting on her knuckles she added, "Did you have to baptize the dead?" The temple was in full view of us now. Still promising to take me to heaven. I'll admit it's a pretty piece of architecture but so are the rest of the Mormon temples around the world.

"I did for a while and no I wasn't possessed." I turned left to Milton St. where the temple started to shrink away in the rear view mirror, begging me to come back. "In fact, I felt nothing."

* * *

Finally, after we got off Milton to Food Paradise Lane. Food on every block. "Ok, sisters. Where should we dig first?" We debated over Italian, French, Chinese, Thai, Old American and yadh, yadh, yadh. The issue of eating was finally settled once we got to a local fine diner called Moroni. It wasn't my personal choice. It looked silver and mediocre and cold and I had the feeling it would be the same on the inside but we needed a place to start.

Doors open and fake Foodie license out, the hostess welcomed us with a big smile and a red booth for all of us. Rachael sat by the window while I sat next to her. I observed my surroundings for a moment. Three Belles and an Edward sat behind Natti and Jazz. The Belles yap over the wedding arrangements while Edward stared lustfully at the bar where four young Lolitas giggle over the hottest celebrity abs. Oh Mr. Humbert Mason or James Humbert, better look out for Mr. Cullen, he wants to make the nymphets sparkle! Mr. Cullen wasn't the only one eyeing the poor Lolitas. A father of five screaming children and an indifferent wife eyed with the same zeal. If there was no screaming kids, no wife, no Belles, no hungry false Foodies, the husband and the Edward would have loved to taste some Lolita. Oh how I wish we were filming.

"What would you like to drink, ladies?" asked the waitress. My groin got hot at the sight of her tight fitted rack. Sure her skin didn't show but she had intentions to show her curves. The sight of her endowment made me realize I hadn't had pussy in two years.

"I'll just have lemonade," I said. Savoring the bitter taste of reality.

"And I'll have a Limeade," said Rachael. Her voice reminded me of what I needed to do. Once Natti and Jazz ordered their drinks and waitress hooters left for the next table, I pulled Rachael over in and whispered, "We need to talk in private. Let's go to the bathroom." Rachael said a puzzled ok and off we went to the girls bathroom.

"Can you tell me what's going on?" she asked as I pushed her inside the dirty, unkempt bathroom and barricaded the door with a heavy trash can.

"We're having a serious talk is what's going on," I said. I walked closer to her. I looked calm but, I was boiling on the inside. I showed her my arm. "Why did you mark me?" She didn't answer for one too-long moment. "Tell me, 'Georgie girl' why did you mark me?"

"It wasn't out of malice, Zoya," she said.

"Not out of malice," I repeat her. "Writing the name of my possible killer, then having my arm almost ripped off then discovering micro-mite things in my arm is totally not out of malice." Rachael folded her arms and looked at me like I was a bad-tempered child.

"I don't know what attacked you in Vegas but I swear the name and the Tatmites are harmless," she said. She went over to the sink and began washing her left arm with soap. "He has absolutely no intention of harming us. He loves us too much." Rachael turned off the water and took some paper towels. Her face was red and her eyes glistening. She walked toward me with her arm outstretched. She also had the faded name DAMIEN on her arm. "I only wrote the name so he could talk to you freely. Just say his name and he'll be here."

"What makes you think he loves us?"

"Because if he didn't I wouldn't be here and neither would you," she said. "Now call him. You'll be surprised by how much he listens." Her words sounded very reasonable. If Damien wanted to kill us it would have been done already or worse take us somewhere and torture us. She took a step closer to me. My wild imagination took hold for a moment and I pictured us kissing like we did in the other bathroom. Rachael taking my hand was enough to make my whole body warm all over in a very pleasant way. "We both love you very much, Zoya. Call him."

I couldn't make up my mind what to feel. I'd never been romantically loved before, lusted after maybe but not loved (family love doesn't count). I didn't know if I wanted to cry, to scream, to leap with joy or to faint from the surprise of two people being madly in love with me. I needed to respond to this somehow or else I would have explode. So out of impulse, I took her other hand.

"Ok, I'll say his name," I said. I felt so much better holding both of her elegant hands. From her look of bliss (ha…Bliss) she looked to be enjoying my hands too. "Before I do, I want to know something."

"Oh yeah," she said. She sounded day dreamy. "What's that?"

"When did you go head over heels for me?"

"Well, to tell you the truth, I was scared of you at first. Have you ever seen _Ichi the Killer_?"

"Yeah, if Ms. Meyer was to be honest about Edward he'd be Ichi. A pussy and a creep," I said. We both laughed at the joke. We laughed almost to the point where we almost broke contact but we ended up on the floor instead. "So…so why am I being compared to Ichi?"

"Not…not Ichi. You're no Ichi. You reminded me of Kakihara. Nobody fucks with Kakihara, not even his own gang wants to get on his bad side, let alone betray him. I think if anyone did either of those things they better pray that he doesn't find them. I think we should have been called 'Number 1 Killers' instead of 'Droog'. If Alex were ever to meet Kakihara in person he'd be in a new world of hurt. Probably Alex would become his bitch or something.

"Anyway, the point is I started to fall in love with you when I found you singing _Under Pressure._"

"Oh my God," I said. "I sang with Mercury, you sang with Bowie. By then I just liked hanging around you because it's hard to find someone that likes classics now a days. Music is just mechanical now. Ok, let's get off this floor and call Damien."

"Hey girls," said Damien. His appearance was so sudden that I jumped up almost out of my skin. As always, he was dressed up as Alex, only this time I was totally sober and he was talking. There's only one thing that was the same. His presence made me horny.

"I thought you didn't talk when you're young, Bright Eyes," I said. Rachael grabbed my hand and I helped her up. He gave his response.

"My real name gives me permission. Plus you look great without any of the Bliss. Going through a Lynch isn't very good for your mind."

"Says the person that likes Moloko," I said. Bright Eyes pulled me closer. His face so serious and beautiful I might have melted to the floor.

"I'm only Alex because your desire wants me to be," he said. For a moment his voice sounded like a low growl from another world that deals with fire and screaming. I preferred Yorkshire over wherever that voice came from. The chill left my spine when he reverted back to normal British accent. "None of you are completely ready to see what I truly look like underneath. I think both of you never will but I am willing to show you a glimpse of what I am. I've already let Rachael see, now I want you to see Zoya."

"See what?" He took both my hands and held them to his face. So far it feels like a regular face. Nothing terrifying yet. Both of my thumbs rested underneath his eyes.

"Look into my eyes. I want you to look very closely. What do you see?" His face was close enough for a kiss. I looked into his eyes without blinking. At first I only saw crystal blue eyes. Beautiful human eyes. After a moment or two went by I thought about saying I see blue but then I saw the gold rings around the pupils. The barely visible rings burst into multiple spiked stars to form golden outer rings around the irises. Only clones can have eyes like that.

"You're a McDowell clone," I said. My body tingled in amazement. All this time I've been trying to find a clone of McDowell in Hollywood and L.A. when all that time he'd been in my Blissful daze. I repeated with giddiness, "You're a clone." I couldn't stop smiling until I thought about Rubick. He told me very firmly (almost angrily) there's no clone of McDowell. I remember his saying very clearly, "Even if there is a clone he wouldn't want to be with you. He'll leave the minute he's done with you."

Thinking about that, my heart sank to the dirty floor. My smile faded, and I removed my hands from his face. I suddenly didn't want to look nor touch him anymore. "What's wrong?" he said. I wondered if the concern is real or not. When he grabbed my hand, I took his wrist and pulled all his fingers back. He didn't scream, but he gasped in surprise. Not the exact look I wanted but close enough. Rachael was right about me being similar to Kakihara; fucking with me is a terrible idea.

"Zoya, why did you do that?" Rachael looked bewildered by my sudden attack. I put my hand on her shoulder, my insides boiling with an invisible fire.

"I don't like being used," I said. "Have you ever wondered why he leaves us after sex?" Rachael surprised me with her answer.

"Yeah, his wife will kill us if he stays the night without paying. She's his pimp."

"A wife?" I said. I looked back at Damien. His fingers cracked back to normal without a hint of pain in his hand and his face.

"Yes, I'm married but she doesn't love me anymore," he said. I was about to ask him why she was pimping him out, when a loud banging on the door got a jump scare out of all of us.

"You kids better not be having sex in there. I'm going to kick you out if you are!" I was about to remove the heavy trash when Damien stopped me. After seeing him put his fingers back to normal I was afraid of what he might do to me.

"Before you do that, I want you to confess your feelings to Rachael like you did with me." The man banged louder on the door. I turned to Rachael with my heart hammering just as loudly. I have never been comfortable talking about personal things or emotions except with Damien. Once I confessed to my mom that I was bisexual and told me I should repent for my thoughts. He's the only one that doesn't give me that judgmental look like everyone else. The man banged louder again with a threat to call the police. Damien put his hand on the door, "Go back to your work, Joe. This is personal business." Just like that, the banging stopped and he turned to me. "Go on, tell her."

"Tell me what_?" Oh there looks like there's no other choice_. I turned to Rachael and made my confession.

"Last summer while we were taking a break I told Bright Eyes my personal fantasies involving you." Rachael doesn't speak but she's already pink in the face_. God, I'm going to sound like a hypocrite._ "One of those fantasies involves me fingering you underneath a table in a fine restaurant." Already I can feel the judgement. "Sometimes I like to fantasize about you eating me out and having sex in the shower and uh…" I point over to Damien. "Do a threesome with our boyfriend." I closed my eyes for the oncoming disaster that never happened. Rachael pulled me over with a kiss just as passionate as the night before. Only this time I didn't struggle. I embraced her back with a kiss just as hungry as hers.

"I'm sorry that I made you feel bad," I said into her mouth. "I just don't want Rubick to find out."

"He won't find out. We'll keep this a secret. Even if he does, we'll kill him," said Rachael. Her bravery's got me all worked up. I suddenly wanted Rubick to find us so we could kill him and be off in the sunset. Of course, that would be a stupid thing to do. Anyone that tries to kill him end up either having their heads mounted on the wall or end up being eaten by the 'experiments'. Rachael's hand began to roam closer to my crotch when the banging came again. Only this time they were girls.

"Hurry up in there! I've got to pee!" Our lip lock broke and Damien wasn't there to drive them out. There were so many things I've wanted to ask him. _Why is he married? Why is he being pimped out? Where can I find him and protect him from the bitch?_ Rachael removed the trash can and opened the door. Two Belles stood in the door way doing the pee-pee dance. As hard as I tried not to laugh I ended up laughing anyway.

"What's so funny?" asked Belle one. Damnation was in her eyes and I laughed harder.

"Oh nothing," I said. I took Rachael's hand (so daring) and walked around the Holier then thou Belles "I just think you should keep an eye on Edward Ichi Humbert. I would hate to see Lolita sparkle and slaughtered." By then we left the bathroom and rejoined Natti and Jazz at the booth. I made our order to go. The idea of eating around Belles repulses me.

* * *

It took three restaurants to build up the courage to perform one of my fantasies. The restaurant we were in was French with low lighting and white long linen table clothes. A perfect hiding place to do dirty deeds. As always, Rachael sat next to me. Once the hostess left us alone I put my hand on her leg and slowly went up to the heat of her crotch. "So how's your endometriosis?

"It's actually better now," said Rachael. She helped me slip inside her jeans. Her panties were wet to the touch. "Much, much better now. I'm sorry that I acted up earlier."

"It's alright. My sister has the same problem," I said. Rachael got a little tense as I stroked her oh so thin panties up and down while the waiter got our drinks. I ordered a coke with cherry while I dove underneath to feel her red velvet.

"Oh…I would like to have the same thing," said Rachael. I admired how well she was keeping her cool. While Natti and Jazz debated over which appetizer to share, I was enjoying my dessert

"Have you ever seen _Blue Velvet_, Rachael?" I asked. She got hotter by the minute and very close to losing it. Clever girl pretended to look at the menu by holding it to her face.

"Yeah…I've seen it…..always avoid crazy men in….oxygen masks…and….never sing _Blue Velvet_."

"Are we ready to order?" asked the waiter.

Almost half jumping out of her seat, she shouts, "Oh God!" and presses my hand so hard to her groin that I can feel her heart beat. For a moment I was panicking as everyone watches us with startled eyes, including Natti and Jazz. Luckily Rachael was able to save us.

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid my endometriosis is acting up again." Slowly I took my hand out of her pants and wiped the evidence on the linen. "I would like to have champagne with my soda and a filet minion. What about you, dear?" She took the hand I pleased her with. The restaurant decided to play _Blue Velvet_.

"I'll have what she's having."

* * *

Two hours passed and Ripley was ready to go. Our fridge was stuffed with enough food for the trip to Kansas and we were more than happy to sleep it off. On the drive while Natti and Jazz were asleep, Rachael laid beside me returning the favor but oh so carefully but oh so well. Through clenched teeth, the fireworks exploded in my head. Rachael and I spooned and whispered in my hair "I love you, Zoya." I take her hand whisper the same words to her palm. "I love you, Rachael." And I really did mean it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey guys! Sorry I took so long. Got a whole lot of homework.**

**Thanks a million to my beta demonbarber14!**

* * *

Chapter 7

Ripley stopped at Kanardo Station which is on the border between Colorado and Kansas. While Natti and Jazz were getting dressed, I on the other hand planned to get undressed. Rachael indicated that she shared the same idea by fondling my breasts under the blankets, until Natti killed the mood with her loud stomping. "Ripley's recharging, are you guys going to get dressed?"

"I'm tired, Natti," I said.

"Yeah, we're very tired," said Rachael. "The mountains are pretty in Colorado." She went back to fondling my mountains. My mood came back again. Natti mumbled something to Jazz and were out the door to do whatever. When the door closed at last I rolled on top of Rachael and we sucked into liplock like our lives depended on it. In seconds our clothes went flying, I've seen Rachael naked before but for some strange reason she's different this time.

I'd always thought of her bony to the point of being malnourished, and flat as a boy. Turns out she's more athletically built than I had imagined, and her breasts leaned more toward a size B then an A. I can actually see her more in a gymnasium than a cat walk. Rachael guides my right hand to her breast and the left between her legs; she feels so eager. "Make love to me," she says. I can feel her heart beat with anticipation and I can't help but grin.

"Oh Rachael," I said. "Where were you at the Belle Academy? Of all the Belle's I've taught you would've been my favorite."

"Really," she said. "What exactly did you teach, my lovely Zoya?"

"Well, my lovely Rachael, I always took the ones curious about sex to the basement of my old church. I would get them naked and let them lie down on the couch or the floor. Once I got them hot and bothered, I would insert my two fingers in like this." I slide my fingers inside her pussy. She made a small gasp at my pleasant invasion. While my fingers instructed for her G-spot to come hither, I went on telling my story. "Of course, this is just a warm up. Often they would lose their innocent minds once I'd done this." I grazed my thumb against her clit and her head went back in a gasp. Her hands begin to dig at my skin as I made her need more unbearable. Something clicks on and drops to the floor but I didn't bother to check where the talking came from. I'm too far into my teaching to go back now. _"Right now it's hot outside but later on it's going be a severe thunderstorm with some heavy rain!"_

"What….what if they….were faking?" I give a little kiss to her lips then trail down her neck with these words.

"If they were faking, I would simply do this." I give her a little bite on the neck, barely enough to leave a mark but enough to make her scream a little. "If that didn't work, then I would have to do this." My mouth goes to her left nipple, biting and licking away gently while my hand pinches the right. My sweet tortures brings Rachael towards delirium.

"Oh, Zoya…" says Rachael. She doesn't need to say the rest. I insert the rest of my fingers inside her and let my palm work her clit. In seconds she holds me tight to her body while her warmth floods my hand and fills my mouth with satisfaction. Breathily, she gasps, "You're such a wonderful lover and teacher."

"_In other news, the artist Andrea has struck again in Las Vegas_ _yesterday to give us another masterpiece."_ I sit up straight at the words "Las Vegas". I suddenly go cold at the photo of a younger me graffitied on a wall next to my former suite. I thought I had made it up somehow in my pain-filled deluded head. The newsman continues, _"This time it's of the famous survivor, Zoya Lovejoy as an adolescent. Zoya Lovejoy survived the notorious Wichita Dahlia killer took about fifteen or more innocent lives and remains at large. Clearly there is some kind of meaning to this since the art is right next to our notorious snuff star, Alexis. Both are symbols to eliminating crime and spying invaders. The door and the wall will be removed to be taken to a museum."_

"So that girl is you, isn't it?" asks Rachael. Her head leans against my chest while I run my fingers through her soft hair. This Andrea person is clearly bad news. I need to kill her before she gives me away. That piece of art already exposed enough to make me uncomfortable.

"Yes, that's me at twelve," I explain. "It was a time of change for me and not in a good way."

"What exactly happened?" I am about to tell her the terrible times when Ripley interrupted.

"I suggest you girls get dressed. Your sisters are coming back."

"Shit!" We say in unison. We quickly pick up our explosion of clothes, and then dumped them in our laundry basket and into the small bathroom. I push Rachael into the shower and turn it on. I wait for Natti or Jazz to knock and interrogate us. It's not uncommon for sisters to betray one another, especially their leaders. My body becomes less rigid after a moment or two goes by. "Oh that was close," I sigh. Rachael nods in agreement and we both got out of the shower. We almost hugged when Ripley stops us in mid-embrace with a warning.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," said Ripley. This is the first time she's been stern with us.

"But why?" I ask.

"That exercise you two did on the couch I will let slide but if you ever get intimate again I'll have to report you to Rubick. Natti and Jazz will be kept in the dark unless this happens again. This is not personal, it's only for your protection. Remember, his eyes are everywhere." I know she means every word and I step back from Rachael. She looks just as sad as I am. After we clean off and get dressed, Rachael and I spend the rest of the ride separate and lonely.

* * *

We came to a rough start arriving in Wichita. It all started when we checked into the Catherine Hotel of the East Side of town. Rachael was by my side as always but none of the good feelings were there. We were so silent that the background noises were louder than usual. The writing of the pen sounded sharper, the scratch of the static T.V. scratchier and strangely the whispering voices in the lobby could be heard a mile away.

The loud noises in the lobby were bad but, the elevator was worse, especially with the monotone music. Rachael and I finally broke our deafening silence when she brushed her hand against mine. It was an innocent gesture and probably an accident but it was enough to set me off. I slapped her hand away and said the most terrible words I so wish I could take back. "Get your hands off of me, you dyke!"

Suddenly the air in the elevator was sucked out along with the monotone sound. Natti and Jazz had their backs against the walls, bracing for the oncoming storm. Rachael curled back her lips and her eyes looked strangely darker. She snarled, "You bitch!" and shoved me against the wall. Her fist was ready to meet my face when Natti pulled her away from me. Even though Rachael was contained the hate in her eyes continued stabbing me in the heart. I didn't mean to be cruel but it was necessary in order to keep both of us alive.

* * *

Being hated is one thing but being hated by a loved one is another. For four hours I laid in bed staring at the ceiling with the T.V. on, debating what should be done. I knew Rachael wasn't going to knock on my door. If someone called me a dyke I wouldn't knock on their door either. I knew that going to her for an apology would be useless and that she would only slam the door in my face, if she even opened it at all. A commercial promised something about relationship advice before I turned it off. Since Rachael and I didn't want to talk I thought I might as well talk to Damien, knowing that he would understand me.

I sat up straight, closed my eyes and called his name, "Damien." One minute, two minutes, I opened my eyes. He wasn't there. I crossed my legs thinking he would be here in a moment. After five minutes went by, I was pacing and wringing my hands. "Maybe I wasn't loud enough. I'll call him again."

I said his name again, this time louder, "Damien." He still wasn't there. My insides began to knot, my eyes watering from the pain. I thought that maybe he was mad at me for calling Rachael a dyke and didn't want to talk to me either or that Bliss got to me and I'm losing my mind. I called his name one more time, but this time I yelled it out, "DAMIEN!" His name ringed in my ears but he still wasn't there. Real or not, he abandoned me.

My knees failed me and I went to the floor. My eyes felt like watery acid. I dreaded to hear my thoughts out loud but it had to be said through harsh whisper, "He abandoned me." Rachael, I could almost deal with losing. Women come and go all the time but losing Damien would be like losing the ability to breathe. For reasons I couldn't explain, he reminded me of a certain Someone I've known but for some reason couldn't remember.

I said a little louder, "He abandoned me." Tears fell from my eyes but I'm burning with rage. Slowly I stood up with my nails digging into my palms. Suddenly my burning turned into a blazing fire. "He abandoned me!" At that moment nothing was safe and I mean nothing. I made the T.V. plunge to its death onto the floor. The tacky pictures on the walls were ripped to shreds and my luggage went flying, clothes and all. The worst to get it was the bed. Grabbing a knife discarded among the clothes and make-up I stripped the bed bare. I showed it no mercy. I have no idea how many times I stabbed it but there were certainly enough holes in the memory foam to see though the other side. This was enough to calm me but not to sooth my blood thirsty soul.

_I need to kill somebody, right now._

"Feeling right at home, Zoya," asked Rubick

"Yeah, feeling right at home," I said. I leaned my back against the wall and slid down to the floor. "Mr. Rubick?"

"Please, you can call me Stan."

"Stan….I want you to do something for me."

"Anything Zoya," he said. He almost sounded desperate to please me. "Anything you like."

"I want kill somebody and I want to do it my way."

There was a pause, then Rubick responded, "I think you're overworked, sweetheart. How about I come over and take you out to dinner, as business partners of course." Suddenly I cringed at the idea, especially considering what Rachael told me. The image of Mr. Rubick putting his hand under my dress while eating steak almost made me want to puke.

"Uhh…no thanks, not hungry but back to my point. I want to kill somebody my way. This is my hometown and I must welcome it with open arms."

"That is not a good idea to do that, Zoya. There's already trouble in Vegas we're trying to clean up." He definitely had a point there. A famous artist graffittied little me next to my former suite and Steele blood was everywhere in the sex dungeon. Still, I needed some type of release. That was when an idea formed in my head.

"This will be a good way to get Wichita excited for the innocent survivor Zoya and Our Glorious Heroine Alexis. With the 'serial killers' back at large, they'll be looking to us for protection and admiration. So if you let me Ru- I mean, Stan." As I said his name I made myself look innocent and seductive as possible. Rubick might not be here physically but his eyes are everywhere. Already I'm get a vivid image of him holding his crotch. "I want you to hire a Steele girl and tie her up in the Woods of Goddard. I want her to hang there for a little while so that the terror builds once I'm on the road. And once I've done my business with her, I'm going to fix her up and dump her in the river. So would you let me?" After a painful long pause he gave his answer.

"I'll let you do this only once and that's all. A Steele will be waiting in the Woods for you at seven."

* * *

Wichita is like a three layer cake. The East Side is Business Central yet it's infested with crime. I'm sure East will be happy to have us film to exterminate. Downtown or Little New York of Kansas almost mirrors the East side with a slight difference. The only business you can get Downtown is Lolitaing, prostitution, and minimum wage of the unfavorable kind. Want anything decent Downtown, be part of the weekly propaganda parades. Lastly, there's the West Side or Family Nirvana. If anyone wants to start a family or have a simple stroll in the park without getting robbed, the West is a perfect place. All this can be experienced on Construction Highway Kellogg where there's always a cone somewhere.

Driving carefully the landmine of cones I look out at Downtown. For a place that looks like New York City you would expect it to be more glamourous yet it looks dirty. I think once upon a time before New America it was a great place to go at night, with multiple theaters and concert halls. Now it's only good to celebrate the parades. I look back at the road to drive a little further before I have to stop then turn to look outside again. Instead of seeing the skyscrapers, I happen to gaze upon Damien Bright Eyes himself smiling. For an angelically handsome thing, he makes me scream and punch him in the face. As I am going for my cane in the back seat, he grabs my wrist.

"What are you doing? Don't you remember calling me, Zoya?" It takes me a second to realize what he's talking about. I brush his hand of hurriedly and look toward the road. I still can't move and look toward Damien. I still have the burn from earlier.

"Why didn't you appear? You didn't have a problem appearing back in Mormonland." A car behind me honks to move forward and I move only by a foot. I turn back to Damien waiting for an explanation. I destroyed my suite so he better tell me. After a pause he tells me.

"I was with Rachael."

"Oh, so you have a favorite!"

"Don't get smart with me, Zoya," he said. God, he sounds like a dad. "Rachael is upset with you and so am I. Why did you call her a dyke?" I don't want to answer this. I look to the road again and move forward. It's so uncomfortably hot in this car and it's autumn. When the car stops he asks again. "Well Zoya, I'm waiting." Traffic in Downtown is jammed to point of barely moving at all. Knowing this is going to take a while I lean back in my seat, preparing myself for a very bitter talk.

"I had to do it."

"That's not an excuse and you know it." He is totally right about that one. I could have told her to stop being intimate with me but realistically that wouldn't have worked. So I tell him about the incident in Kanardo and Ripley's warning.

"I haven't really worried about it before," I say. "I obeyed the rules even when I didn't agree with him. Kill someone my way and not R's I'd get a mere slap on the wrist but to be intimate with a co-star is a whole different matter. There's an old saying in SERTV, _Love is Death. Hate is Life._ Call me selfish but I would rather live in hate then die in love." Words out of my mouth I realize how morbid that last sentence sounded. I wonder if I actually died in the chair and I'm living in Hell. No normal person should live like this and Damien confirmed my thoughts.

"That's a terrible way to live. Don't you feel tired of this way of living?" I turn my head with very watery eyes.

"Yes….but what choice do I have? It was either this life or the chair. Are you suggesting I kill myself?"

"Believe me, if I wanted you to off yourself I would have made you do it long ago. However, I have no interest in harming you. Why don't you come with me?" A car honks behind me to move forward and I almost crash into someone's bumper. I can't help but think about the voice under that Yorkshire accent. There was nothing human about that voice.

"I can't," I say. Quickly, I give him my answer. "I'm already in the frying pan with Rubick, I don't want to be in the fire with you and whatever Hell you came from. I know you're a clone but you're more than that, aren't you?" For a long while he didn't answer. It looked like he was debating weather or not he wanted to tell me. The construction started to lessen once we entered the West Side. Just when I think he won't answer me in a thousand years, he murmurs, "I'm a Ceno."

"A what?"

He takes a breath and repeats his confession. "I'm a Ceno. The correct word is Cenobite but we prefer Ceno or Cen. Saying the whole word sounds like a computer chip." It takes me a minute to process what he just said. Suddenly I get this image of Chatterer in a Derby hat going click, click, click with his teeth. That image should be scary but for me it was hilarious.

Laughing like an idiot, I say, "You…you mean…to tell me….you're like Pinhead?" His serious face gets me to stop giggling. Oh shit, I might have screwed myself over. My hands shake at the thought of being dragged out of my car and into God knows where and be tortured forever.

"I'm nothing like Pinhead, darling. Wouldn't be caught dead with those needles on my face and he's got a stick too far up his ass to have fun. Probably that stick makes his face stoic all the time." A smile creeps into my face and snort out a laugh. He continues to joke. "In fact, when I go over in his realm of existence I always tepe his head and he goes, 'who the fuck keeps throwing toilet paper? I swear you're going to be sorry once I find you.'." I'm laughing to the point of loosing breath. Imagining Pinhead wrapped like a mummy just made me laugh harder.

We were closing in on the woods and all went serious. Before I enter Goddard, he asks again, "Will you come with me?" I'm now in the woods. The road is unbelievably bumpy. I really want to leave the business but, I don't want to end up like Frank Cotton either. The road ends and I come to a stop. I sit there debating for a few moments what I should do.

"Can I make a bargain with you, Damien?"

"Go on, what's you're offer?" My heart beats loud in my ears. I am screaming on the inside; I'm going to regret it but I go on with my deal.

"I will go with you under certain conditions," I say. I wait for him to reply, but all is silent. I continue, "One, you need to stay with me for a week. During that week, you need to show a little part of yourself and I mean your _real _self. I don't care how scary you are, I need to know what I'm dealing with. Second, before you take me anywhere I want to say….good bye to Rachael." I pause to gather myself. "Then lastly, I want you to, I guess, open up my memory because for some reason I can't remember much of my childhood." The car remains silent; it is almost coming to seven.

"I'll stay with you for a week but you have to pay me," he says. I watch him point to my bag in the back. "By giving me the stuffed tiger." Suddenly, an invisible stone drops down my stomach. I started shaking my head furiously.

"I can't give you that. He's been with me before…."

"Before your friend left you without saying a word." I don't want to speak. If I speak I'm going to cry and I wish he'll stop talking but I know he won't. He pulls me closer to a hug. "I know Tiger is your number one choice of comfort when things get at its worse but he's not the same as your friend." Yep, now I'm into full blown crying mode. I hold unto Damien tightly while he sooths my hair.

"He's the reason why I have to be cruel because if I show affection they'll leave me. I'd rather hurt them first then the other way around."

"So that's the real reason why you take lives," he says. The way he says it sounds very matter of fact rather than chastising. I actually begin to calm myself from his lack of judgment upon me. I pull away, drying my eyes then take the bag from the back seat. I take out a worn out stuffed tiger, hug Tiger one last time, and gave it to him. With quick hand movements the tiger disappears. The deal was done.

Before we get out, he says, "Once we get out of this car you must tell me one of your fantasies. It's one of my conditions to you." Happy to oblige, we go into the woods holding hands and I speak my dirty mind.


	8. Chapter 8

**Happy Halloween!**

**A million thanks to demonbarber14 for being my beta!**

* * *

Chapter 8

"Are you sure you want to play out _Evilenko_, Zoya?" he asked. I didn't answer him right away. There's been flashing lights in the trees as we've been talking. At first I thought it was just a blinking of a communications tower for plane landing. Wichita is widely known as Jet City because of so many planes taking off. It's when I started seeing more of them I felt uneasy. I stopped walking and Damion paused with me. "Are you having second thoughts? I totally understand if you change your mind."

"It's not that," I said. I point to the trees. "You see those flashing lights? Those are cameras. Rubick is purposefully letting me know I'm being watched so that little conversation we had might have fucked us over." I started wringing my hands together. Turned out I might need to get out of Dodge with Damion sooner than I thought. While I was becoming a nervous wreck, Damion was very relaxed. He pulled me to his side and gave me the good news in a very casual manner.

"You worry too much," said Damion. "Those cameras are just getting a tweek in the system by my brothers. Rubick would think this is just you doing your worst."

"Brothers?"

"Alex-speak for friend. Out of all the personas I absorbed Alex is the most dominate and sometimes annoying one. Some of them tend to get jealous." I was about to ask what he meant when a moaning of a girl caught our attention. It was a Steele hanging by her wrists next to an oak tree. Looked like she'd been hanging there for a while. Her naked body shook from the cold and exhaustion. He whispered in my ear, "Even though the cameras are hacked you still need to do a little bit of your work in case he'll question you. Take out your frustration but don't kill her, my brothers will do that."

"Do they know my signature marks?"

"As avid fans they'll make it perfect to the last grim detail. Back to what I'm saying. Once you smell something rancid like something that died that's your que to run back and meet me there. Understand?"

"Sparkling clear," I said. I gave him a kiss and walked back into the darkness. It was only the Steele and me. I let the bag drop to get her attention. She stopped moving and I thought she was trying to say something. I knelt to the ground and dug into my bag to get my knife and my special whip. I walked over to her and ungagged her. Already she was pleading.

"Please, I don't want to do this anymore. I've been waiting out here for hours and-"

"Were you a Lolita or a Belle?" This question caught her off guard. She probably never had such a question asked of her before. I was not surprised. Doesn't matter if you're a Lolita or a Belle you'll eventually become a Steele and nobody gives a shit what you were before. I took her by the hair and pointed the blade to her neck. "Don't make me ask you again."

"Ok, Ok, I was a Belle!"

I snickered, "I can tell by how panicky you look. If you were a Lolita you wouldn't look so scared." The blade gave her a tiny nick on the neck and she started screaming. Yep, she was definitely a Belle. Laughing at her over reaction, I asked, "So tell me, Belle. How long have you been a Steele?"

"A week." I gave out a long whistle. Just fresh from the frying pan and into the fire. The new Steele continued, "I thought that becoming a Steele wouldn't be so bad. I've been a good Belle since I was twelve. Did nothing criminal and I'm still a virgin."

"Really?" I said, walking away from her slowly. "That's a shame." I cracked the whip and it began to glow red. This whip was not only going to leave a lash, it was going to burn. The Steele suddenly went silent. "Let me tell you something about virginity, darling. It's not a precious thing, it's a curse." The whip made its first lash like lightning on the Steele. The crack and the scream resembled the sound of thunder.

"When you're young it lays dormant but once you hit puberty it breaks out like hives. For some reason it only affects women but never men which I find to be unfair." I unleashed the fury of the whip on her a second time. Her screams sounded louder and better the second time. "And when you get older, it gets worse. No matter how many times you scratch it off it doesn't leave, you hate having it around but everyone else wants you to keep it because it's special. Do you know how fucked up that sounds?" I whipped her again with harder velocity. Along with the thunder and lightning I could smell burning flesh. "Society wants you to be sick because it's sick itself. It's when you lose the disease that Society begins to degrade you because you're well. That-" crack "is so" crack "FUCKED UP!" _CRACK_

Whip ready for the seventh time I caught a whiff of something foul. It had the stench of a sewer, the zoo, roadkill, and sulfer rolled into a stew of rotting bodies. The smell was so bad I almost threw up. I turned away from the smell when I heard a voice that had the same hellish accent as Damion only this time there was a hint of Italian. _"Run, Julliette." _I don't know why they called me Julliette but I had no intentions of asking why. Leaving the whip and the bag behind I ran back to where I came from. I didn't even bother to look back. Steele's fading screams told me whoever was there wasn't friendly.

I was close enough to see the faint red of my car when a human shape appeared in front of it. High on adrenaline I hid behind a tree and peeked. From what I could see in the dark the figure was tall by human standards. Looking a little harder I could tell he was wearing glasses and not the fashionable kind either. For five minutes he'd been pacing my car but he had no intention of stealing it. He was waiting for something but what the hell for? When an unwelcome hand landed on my shoulder I conjured up the smell from earlier and I went into a full sprint. Fuck the creep stalking my car, the stench of evil can have him!

"Whoever the fuck you are, get away from-" I stopped once I got a good look of his face. I suddenly remembered our _Evilenko_ fantasy yet with all the excitement I had forgotten all about it. For someone playing a real life Lecter, he sure looked worried. He pulled me close and held me tightly as if I might blow away into the night.

"What took you so long, Zoya? I was beginning to think they took you."

"Sorry, I forgot we were supposed to meet here," I said. "Your friends are scary as hell."

"What friends?" said a third party. I broke away from Damion to get a good look at the uninvited guest. The grey suit was the first thing that caught my eye and made alarms go off. That nice tailored suit screamed he was a Grey and waiting for his Steele in the woods. If a Grey is here for his 'investment' that means she's of high value to him. If anything happens to his Steele he can report it to the government. That also means Rubick will know.

"I'll handle this," said Damion, as he smiled to the Grey. "Hello comrade, what brings you here this fine evening?" The Grey gave him a look of disapproval. From a young age New Americans have been taught to hate other countries that are not allies. Russia is considered a huge enemy, right next to the United States of Europe.

"I can ask you the same thing," said the Grey. Damion held his hands up to make peace.

"I know what you're thinking comrade but don't let my accent fool you. I have no family in Russia or in my home town in the Ukraine so I decided to become a citizen to the Democratic Republic of America to be with my niece, Zoya. Since I have no children and she has lost her family to a killer I thought it would be best to leave the country in order to be closer to her." The Grey looked at me then over to Damion.

"You mean as in Lovejoy?"

"Of course comrade, not every girl is lucky enough to be a Zoya." The Grey shook my hand with a million apologies I had no care to listen. I sighed in relief when Damion pulled him away. "You are a Grey, aren't you?"

"Yeah, my prized Steele is doing a job in the woods. I was waiting a mile away when I smelt something bad then a moment later she starts screaming. I know her screams personally and the screams she was making was not out of pleasure. I followed her because I thought she was my Steele." That last part got me angry. It made me remember the time I almost became one by force. Damion put his arm around the Grey's shoulder.

"Why don't we go back into the woods and see if she's still there. Did you tie her up in anyway?" Damion pulled a knife out of his jacket and gave it to me. I smiled at the gift and the change of plan. Mr. Grey was going to know who the real masters of the universe are in a few moments.

"Yeah, I was instructed to tie her to a tree. I think I should have declined that request. The woods are a terrible place." I walked beside the Grey, positioned my knife and stabbed him in the back. He fell to his knees, screaming in surprise. I pulled the blade out and repeated stabbing him while he begged for mercy. I can actually feel myself getting wet during the act. Rubick didn't tell me to kill this person and it feels so good because it was my choice and not his. After stabbing the corpse for the fortieth time Damion put it to a stop.

"That's enough," he said. "You had your fill of death. Now let me fill you with life." He kissed me and I let go of the knife. When I led his hand to the wet fire of my loins, he suddenly withdrew. I saw him standing over me. He stared at the dead Grey then back to me. Why did he look so afraid?

"I can't do this," he said, backing away. This is so weird. He was the supernatural being here, so I should have been the one freaking out, not the other way around. Irritated and uneasy at the same time I got up myself.

"What do you mean you can't do this," I said. "You let me kill a man but for some reason you don't want to get in my pants?" He backed away even further. Looking down and wringing his hands together he reminded me of flower girls that are never picked for the dance.

"I really want to but it doesn't work unless I….." This is where it got really weird. He took off his glasses and starts crying. Feeling awkward by this situation, I tried to comfort him but he backed away once again. "Don't come near me!"

"What the hell is wrong with you, Damion? Are you going to fuck me or not?"

"I really like you and I want to make love but I don't want to kill you for my Master," he said. He was about to run off when he suddenly stopped just inches away from where I was standing. Seconds later he starts whispering in Russian. Strangely it sounds like two people talking to each other.

"Damion?" As if his name was a que I felt my body being pulled by an invisible force. High on adrenaline again, I screamed as vines strung me up like an animal for the slaughter. Branches stripped off my clothes but that wasn't the scariest part. Once I was fully naked I felt my flesh begin to tear. "Oh God, please don't make me skinless!" Thankfully that didn't happen but when I looked down I was terrified. All of the scars I've won through the years began to open, some bled deeper than others. The worst was still to come.

The left side of my face began to burn. It got worse when the flesh and the muscles started to separate. Immediately I knew what was happening. "Not the face! Not the-" I screamed when half of my jaw fell. The pain made me remember my self-mutilation after killing my step-mother. Back then I thought that if I did it myself it wouldn't hurt so badly. I was so wrong. I was very close to fainting when I felt a tongue lick the damage, and the pain became less noticeable.

I gasped when I felt his fingers slide inside me. I knew I wasn't getting a Lynch from any Bliss. In fact, I was completely sober. My heart was pounding in my chest and it's not a good feeling. I had thought that if something was pleasuring me internally, I would immediately like it but that wasn't the case.

"Stop, stop, I want this to stop!" Damion did stop, but that didn't relieve me. I didn't want to cry, yet I ended up crying anyway. "I can't do this. I thought I was ready but I can't." I waited for the insults to arrive when the vines let go and he caught me. I finally looked into his eyes. They were not the eyes I usually know. One eye was a jade green while the other was red.

"We're sorry," he said. Laying me down on the grass he kissed me. "We didn't mean to hurt you."

"What do you mean we?" I asked, looking around. "Is there supposed to be another person here?"

"It was supposed to be only you and my persona, Andrei but he didn't feel very confident with himself. He thinks he'll murder you so I decided it would be best if I'm present. Are you up for a _manage a trois?_"

My face started to burn red. The image of two men going at me at once wasn't very savory. I am no prude, but I'd rather have a threesome with a man and a women, the thought of which made me think of Rachael. I got rid of the thought before I could start crying again.

"Can you ease me into it? That way it wouldn't feel so overwhelming." His lips were against mine. He answered with a soft kiss.

"You mean like this?" His hand guided mine between my legs sliding the folds then going deep inside myself. I've masturbated before but this was going to a whole new level and it felt so wonderful. As the tension grew stronger, I decided it was time.

"I'm ready," I panted. I was coming very close. "I don't care which just take me now." As soon as I said it, I realized what he meant by 'we'. Once he pulled down his pants I had to stop playing with myself just to make sure what I was seeing was correct. Instead of one penis, he had two and both of them looked like they belonged to two different people. The one on the right was scared while the left was huge and had piercings from the tip to the balls. Even though they were different, they agreed with one thing. They were definitely happy to see me.

"I'm taking the one on the right," I said. The one with the jade eye smiled while the red one looked a little hurt. When the first one slide inside me I was surprised it didn't hurt. Andrei looked just as surprised but for very different reasons.

"This is…happening," he said in disbelief. I could feel him move but he did it very slowly as if he might hurt me. "Do you feel anything?"

"Course, I can feel you. In fact, you're quite big," I said. His thrust became faster after I mentioned his size. He sure wasn't as big as Damion but that didn't mean he was tiny either. Wanting him to go a little faster I added, "Actually you're very big."

"Really," he said. I pulled myself closer as the fire burned stronger between us.

"Yes, really," I moaned. I offered up my breasts. "Try not to bit too hard." His mouth sucked my right nipple and we're now in the mercy of passion. The sex felt so good that the pain of Damion's piercings rubbing against my leg was minor. Our climax was a mingle of 'yes' and 'da'. We rolled to our side basking in the afterglow in silence.

After a while of cuddling, he asked, "Why do you like me?"

"We're both violent and lonely people," I said. "When I read about you in my dad's criminal library I fantasied about going back in time to see you. I like to think we'd protect each other, help each other, hurt and love each other. We'd be too busy on the both of us to harm anyone else. People would even think we're strange or even be jealous of us. Of course, that's just a fairy tale I made up."

"It might not be real but I do like the thought. I don't know what Mr. Chikatilo would think but I know I would be happy to have you around," he said. Andrei gives me a kiss and he stands up. I hear the whispers of two people then I felt Damion pick me up. This time both of his eyes were red.

"It's time to rest now. You have a long day ahead of you." In an instant, I fell asleep.


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey Guys! Happy New Year!**

**A Million Thanks to demonbarber14!**

* * *

Chapter 9

I dreamt of being eight and sitting on a pew with a boy the same age as me on my right. I know this boy because I'm holding his hand. While the Bishop goes blah, blah, blah to the congregation, the boy and I tune out. Looking at him is like staring into a mirror except that his eyes are like a clear blue sky while mine are like an ocean. People around here say that we might be brother and sister. Sometimes I think they're right but that's not going to stop me from marrying him. From the moment we were born we were meant for each other.

The Bishop says amen and makes and announcement. "Tomorrow night at 7:30, there will be a baptism for Zoya Kelley Lovejoy and Demi-" My eyebrows knit together in confusion. The Bishop's lips move but no words came out of his mouth. It's as if someone pushed a mute button for a few seconds then turned on the sound again. "followed by a dinner rehearsal at 8:30. These two children have made the wise decision of becoming part of the church." When he says this, both of our hands went cold. This wasn't our decision but our parents.

As the sacrament ended I hold unto Demi like life depended on it. "I don't want to get baptized, Demi," I cried. "I don't want God to spy on me."

"I don't like it either, Zo," he said. A few seconds later he whispers, "Both our mom's say we can sleepover tonight. I thought we can do an experiment before we get marked by God." As soon as I blink my eyes we're suddenly in my room. Hot pink walls, hot pink bed, and oddly hot pink floor. As a kid I really loved hot pink.

Demi's in the process of stripping. This is odd because we've always took our clothes off separately. "What experiment are we doing?" I ask. He unbuttons his pants but stops long enough to look at me. His eyes know something I don't.

"Have you ever played with yourself?" I giggle at the question. Demi must have been living under a rock.

"Come on, Demi. Of course I played with myself. I play with my dolls and stuffed animals all the time."

"I don't mean like that," he said. Unzipping, he pulls his pants down to his ankles along with the underwear. When I see his penis for the first time, I almost scream. There's so much talk about cancer spreading from mom's workplace and I think Demi caught the cancer bug. From the way my parents talk about it, the disease is always fatal. Looking at the 'cancer' between his legs I begin to cry at the thought of my friend dying. Demi takes both sides of my shoulders and asks, "What's wrong? Are you crying because I'm a boy?"

"No, I'm crying because you have cancer," I say, pointing at his penis. He laughs then I slap him in the face. "This is not a laughing matter. We need to call a doctor right now!"

"No we don't, Zo," said Demi. "Do you know the difference between a boy and a girl?" _Why is Demi asking me all these questions_? I think, then a I get a lightbulb moment. The cancer is messing with his brain so he's asking random questions. So in order to humor him I answer, "Girls grow boobs while boys stay flat chested. I know I'm a girl because of these."

This time it's my turn to strip. I unbutton the front of my hot pink dress and let it fall to the floor. Once I unhook my training bra, my nipples go hard from the cold air. Demi's eyes stare at my budding breasts and his penis begins to rise. Worry begins to rise like a sea of hot water. I must be worsening his condition. Attempting to pick up my bra, Demi stops me.

"It's ok, the Health movie says this is normal," he tells. I want to ask him what movie but I kept silent. He gives me a kiss then pulls down my tights and underwear. "Lay down on the bed and open your legs. I want to find the clitoris."

"What's a clitoris?" I ask. Crawling unto the bed I spread my legs as wide as I can. He puts both hands on my knees, looking between my legs with wonder. I ask him the same question to get his attention.

"A clitoris is a small button that makes a girl go…..woohoo," he said. My body tenses as his fingers graze the opening. "Do you feel anything?"

"I feel your fingers down there but I'm not going woohoo yet."

"Give me a few minutes. If I don't find it I'll stop," he says. A few seconds go by and his fingers graze something that made me shiver. Demi catches the motion and asks if he found it. I nod my head and lead him to the part that made me shiver in excitement. What I feel in those few moments is nothing I've ever felt yet I wonder how I've never discovered this 'clitoris' earlier. The feeling is like a rollercoaster going up higher and higher until the ride takes drastic turn with fireworks exploding during the drop. Frightening, yet exciting.

There's a frantic pounding on my hot pink door that matches perfectly with my heart. "Zoya," calls my mother. "I heard you moaning, are you hurt?" Jumping out of bed, my head aches as my fingers touch the dress. The ache gets worse the more my mother hammers at the door.

"Zoya, answer me!" The door knob turns back and forth with the door bending slightly. Mother is going to be angry if she catches me naked with Demi. Quickly, I cover myself with the dress but I never put the dress back on. Demi grabs me by the shoulders and makes me look at him. His blue eyes are replaced with red ones.

"Wake up Zoya," he says simply. The moment he told me to wake up I was lying back in bed with Damion and Rachael staring down at me. Both of them looked like they went through hell and back. I shut my eyes when my head started to ache for real. God, it felt like someone stabbed an icepick through my skull.

Holding my hand to my temple, I asked, "What happened?"

"Damion pulled out a weaker part of the plate from your head," said Rachael. She ran her fingers through my hair as if I've never insulted her. "It looked really painful."

"There's a plate in my head?" I asked. My fingers slightly shook as I touched my slightly swollen temple. I know I'm planted with Sparky inside my uterus but I had no knowledge of a plate. I've never had a brain injury or anything involving head trauma. What else happened to me when I was twelve?

"This plate surrounds most of your skull, Zoya," said Damion. He held up a bloody plastic shard in his hand. My head hurt just looking at the thing. "This is only part of it."

"Why is there a plate in my head in the first place?"

"It's all part of the Sparky package," said Rachael. She closed her eyes and sighed. "I watched how the process goes with my little sister, Emma."

"Your little sister got a Sparky?" I asked in surprise. Whenever a girl gets a Sparky it goes either to the firstborn daughter or at least the eldest female in a family of brothers. Rachael nodded, unfazed by my reaction.

"Remember, darling, I have endometriosis and Sparky can only work if the woman is fully fertile. So in my case, my parents decided I should become a working Lolita because my father said, 'What's the point of becoming a Belle if she can't give us children.'"

"I bet that must have been hard for you," I said.

"Oh it was a death sentence," said Rachael. She took out an E-stick from her pjs, inhaled and blew peppermint vapor in the air. She passes the stick to me and I inhale as well. It's like a blast of mint flavored winter in my mouth. "But once I started my job it wasn't that bad. I didn't even lose my virginity until I was seventeen because my job was to be a fluffer for the girls dry as a bone. Anyway, back to the Sparky situation." I give her back the stick and takes a deep drag. At that moment I wanted to put my mouth on hers and breath in the mint vapor.

"The birth control part takes a few seconds. All it takes is insert a rod in the hooch, press and stick then repeat the process every six months until they're eighteen. That part is easy but the head part is something else. Sometimes I have nightmares about it. They scalped her then implanted the plates in her head like a helmet. After they sewed her up I thought they were done but her Suitor came in and told me to get out. I had no idea what he did with her until I came home from work early one day."

Rachael covered her face. A sob escaped her mouth from her shaking hands. A heavy stone in my stomach began to form. I thought I knew what happened next and that whatever Emma went through, I might be going through. I didn't want to know yet, I needed to know for my sake. Putting a hand on her shoulder, I urged her to go on. Wiping her eyes, she continued.

"Emma lived across from my room. When I had my hand on my doorknob I heard grunting sounds coming from her room. I opened her unlocked door….to find her Suitor fucking her naked unconscious body. She was only fourteen!" Rachael took a long drag before telling the rest. "When I found out, I beat the living shit out of him. Would have killed him too if my parents didn't come home. I told him everything I saw and I remember their exact words. My mother said, 'We know.' There wasn't even a drop of emotion in her voice." Rachael leaned in closer to me. Her eyes looked like glassy marbles.

"What my father said was even more cruel then my mother's. He said, 'He's been with her since the first time she got Sparky. What he's doing is helping her get used to him when it's time to get married.' As if he wanted to rub it in, he added, 'Something you'll never have.' After saying that, they told me to keep my mouth shut about it, especially around Emma. If I told anyone Emma's life will be taken and the family will lose the money. I never told anyone because I wanted to protect her yet at the same time I wasn't. Ever since that day, I never wanted to kill them so badly. When I finally got the guts to kill them was after my sister committed suicide by jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge on her wedding day."

Rachael wiped tears from her eyes. That stone in my stomach got heavier. I wondered if I got raped in my sleep as well. Did my parents know and didn't care? Did my little sister know and wanted to tell me? Knowing this, I wanted to ask Natalya if I ever ran into her.

"How did you kill them?" I asked. Rachael giggled for some time before she could tell me.

"Before the funeral, I read the news about the various murders in Kansas. It read: _Wichita: The Hot Spot For Murder_."

"I bet all of them were committed by lovely me," I said, pointing to myself with pride. Rachael nodded her head, giggling some more. She looks cute when she's happy.

"You won't sue me for being a fan of yours, darling?" Having no problem with my lovely copycat, I shook my head. "Alright then, I murdered them in the same fashion as the Wichita Dahlia. My parents never smiled once so I figured I should send them to hell grinning. The funny thing is, I didn't get arrested for their murder I got arrested for stealing mother's jewelry. And then the rest is history."

"Zoya, are you there?" My spine froze into place when I heard Rubrick's voice. I didn't want to answer him yet I didn't have a choice in the matter.

"Yes, sir, I'm here."

"I want to talk to you privately. It's about last night."

"You think there's a problem?"

"I don't know, that's why I want to talk to you one on one. Meet me at the Celestial Café at noon." I heard the soft click in my ear, indicating he was gone. I looked to the clock on the wall. It told me 9:30 am. I looked to Rachael then to Damion. I began to hyperventilate.

"What am I going to do? I don't want to meet this guy alone!" Rachael put her arms around me and kissed me. Five minutes of gorgeous tongue lashing until Rachael had to briefly depart.

"I highly doubt he will take you in the middle of the day but just in case he's crazy enough to do that don't drink or eat anything he gives you." Rachael looked at the clock then back to me. "Do you want to have hot sex in the shower?" Smiling, I nodded my head then turned to Damion.

"Would you like to watch us get sexy in the shower, Bright Eyes?"

"Will I eventually get involved?" Both of us said yes in unison. Moments later clothes were flying between Rachael and me. The shower was hot but not hot enough for what we were doing. We kissed, we petted heavy, we fingered, we licked, and most importantly we fucked.


	10. Chapter 10

**Hey Guy! Happy Leap Year!**

**A million thanks to my beta demonbarber14!**

* * *

Chapter 10

In the shower, Rachael and I got frisky with each other. The soap made Rachael's skin feel soft and silky as I caressed her body, making it more irresistible than ever. My lips locked to hers, our tongues wrestling to become victor. We held each other so close we might as well have melded as one being. The feel of Rachael's slick fingers against my swollen clit caused me to sigh against her lips.

"You feel so hot," she said, giving a small kiss against my neck. "I bet you'd feel hotter if I licked you. I bet you've been licked before many times, haven't you?" I actually blushed out of embarrassment. I've done oral on other girls and a few men before but, never in my life had anyone offered to perform oral on _me_. I had never even bothered to ask because of Sparky. When I told her about my situation, she said, "Oh, poor baby. I'll help you fix that."

Rachael laid me down in the shower, her lips leaving kisses across my body. Through half-closed eyes I could see Damion peeping behind the slit of the shower curtain. My flesh broke into goosebumps when I looked at those blood red eyes spying on us girls. Not wanting to spook myself, I closed my eyes to feel more of Rachael's tenderness. A shiver ran down my spine as her tongue licked against my eager bud. My hands gripped to both sides of the tub. The sensation of her lips, teeth and tongue exploring me in ways that had never been done overwhelmed me in a beautiful way. I didn't want this moment to stop but eventually it had to. Curling my fingers into her soft black hair I screamed out her name as I climaxed.

"Oh….Rachael," I said, gasping though breathes. "That….was amazing." Rachael lay on her left side next to me smiling. I can't help but smile back. "You know Rachael, if I wasn't so paranoid I would be taking you every night.

"Really?"

"Oh yeah, I'll actually keep you all to myself so nobody else will take you away from me."

"Sounds like a marriage," said Damion. I turned my head just in time to see the curtain pulled back to see a very aroused Damion. That time it was only one penis. "Do you want to get married to Rachael?" I had never really thought about marriage and whenever the topic came up it, usually made me cringe. The thought of my being shackled to a man with a bunch of screaming kids make me want to vomit, and that wasn't even taking into account the thought of being pregnant. However, the thought of Rachael and me at the alter looked pleasantly sinful. I would bring home the bacon, and come home to no screaming kids and a beautiful wife to have hot sex on the kitchen table. Sounded like paradise! Too bad once Old America fell the new government destroyed the right of same-sex marriage, among other things.

To get the sad thought out of my mind, my hand grazed his studded shaft. He made a pleasing sigh as my hand gently caressed his member. Turning to Rachael, I asked, "Do you want to play with me and my new toy?" She smiled and kissed me. I could taste myself on her lips.

"I'll do whatever you like, Zoya," she said. Her hand joined in with the caressing. Damion was going to fulfil every man's dream. Both of us stood on our knees, our tongues exploring his phallus. His hand curled into my hair.

"Oh both of you are such wonderful angels," he said. After a couple of minutes of playful licking and sucking, Damion pulled my hair back to look up. He was so tall and frightening with that glaring red need in his eyes I almost want to scream. His gaze softened a little, "I want to see the both of you pleased at once. Alex wants to join in and he wants Zoya. Do you want to have sex with this persona, Zoya?"

"Why can't I have sex with you, Damion? I've fucked little Alex plenty of times and I'm sure he's pretty tired of me."

"Yes, but you were high on Bliss so you really didn't feel him," said Damion. I wanted to argue, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. When you're high on something like Bliss its all an 'out of body' experience. I remember the first time I drank Bliss.

The first Lynch started on my first day in a government safe house. The room I inhabited for the night had no pictures or color. In fact it had hardly anything except for the bed I sat on, the table at the head of the bed and the white Bliss standing like a happy member. Back then I didn't want to take it because I'd never liked the idea of hallucinating, but since it was part of the job I held, I uncapped the bottle, took a sip then, lay on my back. Nothing happened for a five minutes and I was about to take another Bliss when I saw Alex standing in the corner. This will be hard to believe, but I didn't jump his bones immediately. In fact, I was in full blown fight mode.

"If you're smart, Alex, I wouldn't come any closer," I said. To illustrate my point, I shattered the glass bottle and threated to kill him with the jagged edges. "In England you can sing your national rape anthem of _Singin' in the Rain_ but you're not in England anymore." Carefully, I walk towards Alex through a road of milk and glass. At the time I wanted him to know I meant business. "You, poor bastard, are in the State of Kansas, the murder capital of America. If the people don't kill you then the constant change of weather will but, I'm the worst of the worst." Up close and personal, he didn't say a thing but he did look scared of me which actually turned me on. Pointing the glass to his neck, I whispered in his ear, "Since I'm feeling frisky, I suggest you lie on my bed and I tie you up and I'll show you what it's like over the rainbow."

I did remember having a very good time but I didn't feel him inside me. Rachael brought me back to reality with the touch of her hand. "It's best that you let me be with Damion. The first time you won't be able to control yourself. Trust me, the first time I wanted to fuck everything that moved."

"Holy shit," I said. "That explains the weird incident on vacation."

Believe it or not, snuff stars can go on vacation depending on the season the show ends. Ours ending in the winter, we chilled out in Brazil for the warmer climate. One day while I was sunbathing and almost dozing off my phone rang. Rachael sounded so urgent, "Zoya, you must come over here right now! I can wait anymore! I want to make love to you so bad!" Thinking she was just high on too much Bliss I hung up the phone.

Getting back the situation we were in I came up with an idea. I looked up at Damion and said, "Well Bright Eyes, since I've learned that your pierced sausage can turn women into sex fiends I suggest you abstain from us until its time to go to the place of fire and brimstone." Rachael was about to say something in protest when I informed her, "This way we won't have any interruptions from Rubrick or from Natti and Jazz. It will just be us." I pull her closer to me and kiss her lips then turn my attentions back to Damion. He looked pretty disappointed. Standing up and wrapping my arms around him, I said, "It's nothing personal, I just don't want to start humping everything I see, including Rubrick." All three of us cringed at the thought.

"I understand perfectly," he said, kissing me. Once we broke lip contact I wasn't looking at Damion but at Alex. His eyes said he wanted to do wonderfully terrible things to us and that was fine and dandy.

"So…who wants to go first?" Like a schoolgirl, I was about to raise my hand when someone came knocking at our door. We all groaned in unison.

"I'll get it," I said in frustration. "Rachael, you can have fun with Alex while I tell the maid no housekeeping. I'll join you in a moment." Stepping out of the tub and wrapping a towel around myself I expected to find a maid when I opened the door. Instead I found Natti and Jazz standing outside. Already I could feel my stomach turn into knots.

"Zoya, we need to talk," said Natti. "It's very urgent." Hearing Rachael's little moan coming from the bathroom I stepped outside and closed the door. I hoped she wouldn't get any louder. Before I could even ask why it's so urgent, Jazz blurted it out for me. "It's about Rachael. Natti thinks you're getting too close."

"Oh really? and why do you think that, Natti?" Even though I looked calm I was dying on the inside. The only thing that kept me from loosing my cool was Natti's hesitance to answer. Getting irritated with her, I added, "Well?"

After a few moments of silence, she finally answered me. "Out of all of us, you and Rachael have been very close for two years."

"And your point is?"

"You do remember what happened to Billy Jean, right?" Right, I remembered very clearly what happened to her. Before she killed herself, she wouldn't stop crying. Billy's depression gotten to the point where we couldn't film. I remembered what she said before she died. _This is no way to live. _

"Yes, I remember what happened to Billy Jean. What does she have to do with Rachael?"

"You might not know this but, she had a crush on you," said Natti. "When Billy Jean told me all about it I advised her to go to therapy." When I heard the word therapy I wanted to throw up. My father took me to therapy when I was fourteen, all because a teacher caught me getting friendly with a new Belle named Amy Carmen. Therapy was a living hell but fortunately it didn't cure me of my taste for women and it only increased my bloodlust when I found Amy wasn't there anymore. Sometimes I wonder if I could ever find her again.

"Natti, I hate to break this to ya but therapy doesn't really work," I said. I crossed my arms to stop myself from shivering. "Besides there's nothing to worry about. Rachael and I are just friends and nothing more."

"Zoya, you are Alexis and Rachael is Georgette," said Natti. Her lips widen into a smile. "Georgette is after your position as leader. You two aren't supposed to be friends." She had the nerve to flash me a grin of yellowed teeth, I grabbed Natti by the throat and pinned her against the wall. My towel shimmed off my body in the process but I was too hot to be modest. I was just glad the bitch was no longer grinning.

"Remember when I said don't fuck with me back in Vegas?" Natti nodded her head while trying to claw my hand free from her neck. "Rachael, just like you, got the same message and when I give someone a warning I usually carry it out. So are we clear?" I squeezeed a little tighter and Natti nodded frantically and I let go. "Now both of you get out of my sight." I watched them leave but I knew they'd be back to find evidence. The only way they'd stop snooping would be if I found dirt on them first.

I picked up my towel and went back inside. Once I closed the door behind me Alex pinned me against it with a kiss. His hand went between my legs immediately. "You're cold as the grave down there."

"It's not my fault I have to deal with grave business."

"What went on out there?" asked Rachael. She stood leaning against the bathroom doorway looking mighty pleased with herself. I curse Natti and Jazz for taking out of me witnessing a beautiful sight. I told them everything that happened outside.

"That's terrible news," said Alex. "But first let's deal with the real problem." Without warning he threw me over his shoulders and took me to the bed. Rachael pinned down my arms while Alex forced my legs open. His tongue explored my vulva and clit, making me forget the troubles outside for the moment. I looked up at Rachael and asked her, "You want to join us?"

She laughed, "You silly, I'm already part of the team." Rachael kissed me then climbed into bed next to me. Her skilled tongue explored every inch of my breasts causing my nipples to be painfully erect. The pleasure of the lower and the upper were too much to bare until I finally came. Still Alex wasn't done with me. I almost screamed once he inserted his penis into my already sensitive vagina.

"Oh God, you feel like a dream," he said. The harder he thrust, the more pleasure I got from it. Orgasms came one after the other like a stormy sea. I thought he would never stop until I felt his hot seed spill inside me. Paralyzed from mind blowing sex Rachael and Alex held me for a while and had no intentions of letting go until noon. Rubrick would just have to accept that I was going to be late.


	11. Chapter 11

**Hey Guys! I'm sorry it took so long for me to update. With school and work going on, I just didn't have the time to write another chapter. I know this is short but I hope you enjoy!**

**Thanks a million to my beta demonbarber14!**

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Chapter 11

Heavenly as everything was in that room all things must come to an end. "I have to go but I want you to do something for me." I said. Rachael wrapped her arms around me, her face nuzzled to my neck. I rubbed my left hand on her back while my right felt for Damion. He wasn't there.

"What would you want me to do?" asked Rachael, her lips and warm breath a warm reminder.

"While I'm gone I want you to spy on Natti and Jazz. I need to get dirt on them before they find us out." My right still lingered on the empty spot. Damion must have left recently because it still felt warm. I rolled out of bed and stood up only to sit back down for a moment. There was a slight splitting sensation in my head. It hurt even worse with the low ringing in my ears. "Oh God," I murmured, rubbing the sides of my temples. This headache only lasted for a second. Once it passed, I remembered out of the blue Sunday class with Mrs. Fever.

Sunday school always started in the same room at the end of the hall. The only time I ever felt excited to go in was when I entered and noticed the black chalkboard. That old chalkboard that had been there since the Old America and always had a word of the day for us kids. None of them were church appropriate. _Shit. Ass. Fuck. _And a personal favorite, _TITTIES_. Everyday we'd all laugh while Mrs. Fever wiped the obscenity with a red face until she told us to be quiet. After that moment of fun we would pull out the world's most uncomfortable chairs from the corner then wiggle around for an hour or risk getting Numb-Butt Syndrome for a day.

That Sunday in particular the word was _Apostate._ None of us knew what that word meant but we knew it was a bad word because our parents said so and none of us laughed. That day Mrs. Fever didn't bother to erase the board while we pulled out chairs and sit in our usual spots. My usual spot was always next to Demi and always in the corner. That day he didn't sit down.

"Mrs. Fever," said Demi. "Do clones go to heaven?"

"I beg your pardon?" said Mrs. Fever. Her face looked like a vulture. The black dress and white lace collar complemented her ugliness.

"You heard him, lady," I said. I pointed to Demi. "He wants to know if clones go to heaven." Never once during my childhood did I call her Mrs. Fever. Lady was the closest thing to calling her bitch without getting in trouble and she knew it and I took every opportunity to get under her skin. Just to add insult to injury, I added, "Obviously, the answer is yes."

"No," said Mrs. Fever. She said it so firmly that I was taken aback by the answer.

"But….I thought anyone born can go to heaven, even to the lowest kingdom," I said. In Mormonism, there are three heavens. The third one is kind of like an upscale Hell and a downgrade Heaven. Mrs. Fever walked slowly towards Demi and I with black soulless eyes.

"True, but that is only for people that are actually _born_, Miss Lovejoy. Clones on the other hand are _man-made_. While we humans are born in the womb, clones are bred into tanks which is not part of God's plan."

"But what about clones born implanted in the womb and born later on?" asked Demi. Mrs. Fever said nothing. She walked up to him close enough to touch. Fever puts two fingers under his eyes.

I jumped up, "What are you doing?" Fever's pointy nose touches Demi's. After a moment of uncomfortable closeness she backs away and sighs.

"Demitri," said Mrs. Fever. Her dark eyes gave him faux pity. "Or whoever you were back in whatever time. It doesn't matter if you do good deeds or not, all you are is an imitation."

"Imitation of what?" I asked.

Mrs. Fever looked at me. She gave me the same fake pity then looked back at Demi. "I can only see two options once you pass away, Demitri. You will either cease to exist or be cast into Outer Darkness with Satan and his followers." I saw a tear drop from Demi's eye. I went to wipe it away but Fever grabbed my hand and put it down, all while not taking her eyes off Demi. "I will leave you with a little comfort." She stroked her hand against his face that made my skin crawl all over. The way she stroked his face looked sensual and her smile almost the same way. It was as if Fever was soliciting a Lo for sex. "Whoever your original was, I can tell he must have been an Angel."

Demi didn't say a word. He walked out of the class with his face covered. I wanted to follow but Fever grabbed my arm again. Her face looked ugly to the point of demonic. "I suggest you find someone else to play with, Miss Lovejoy." I never said anything offensive to Fever but that day I was too pissed off to care. It was also my last day in Sunday school.

I inhaled a breath and spewed almost the worst obscenities ever written on the chalkboard. "Go fuck yourself, you shit-eating bag of cunt-dicks!" I said it so loud that I could have sworn I've heard an echo. Everyone, including Fever stared at me with wide eyes and mouths and I left them that way once I ran out of there laughing. The last thing I remember was a dark hallway before Rachael brought me back to reality.

"Zoya," said Rachael, her hand on my shoulder. "What are you laughing about." I couldn't help but tell her what I remembered, excluding Demi. I felt the memory of Demi was something too personal for me to share with Rachael. I do plan to tell her eventually but, as of now it's something I need to conquer on my own. Once I finished both of us burst out laughing. "Oh God….Zoya….I swear you have balls!"

"Yeah, Huge!" I said. I looked at the clock, almost close to noon. I jumped out of bed. "I need to get dressed. Now!" It took us two minutes to find something nice to wear. A purple dress with a white collar and cuffs and buttons. The latest fashion that looked more like a coat then a dress but it would do. Plus it looked very retro. After putting on the latest touches on my face I kissed Rachael good-bye and left. By then the headaches got worse.


	12. Chapter 12

**Hey Guys! I'm now 26!**

**Many thanks to demonbarber13!**

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Chapter 12

I made it as far as the parking lot but never inside the cafe. Getting out of the car my head felt like a thousand white hot needles were being shoved inside my brain. I buckled to my knees onto the pavement clenching my head and shutting my eyes. After a few moments of agony, I puked up yellowish bile and the pain in my head ceased once I fainted. It was a terrible experience but one I'm oddly thankful for which I will get to later.

While I was unconscious and being taken away to safety by the most unlikely person to help me out I had yet another vivid dream. I'm noticing that I'm dreaming a lot but I think they're important. The dream started off with me sitting on a bench on a cold rainy night. "Who are you?" asked a female voice next to me. I turned to my right to see a girl in a hot pink raincoat.

As if suddenly appearing on cold rainy nights with a girl was normal I responded casually, "Why I'm you."

The girl shook her head, "No, you're not. If you were me than you would know why I'm here in the rain."

"Well," I said. "Why am I in the rain. I know I was here for someone to get me. I don't know why but I'm still angry that someone-" Out of nowhere I got hit in the back of my head by the younger version of me. "Hey! What was that for?"

"You're so stupid," she said. "That just proves that you're not me. If you were me, you would know the reason you're here and why he wasn't able to rescue you."

"Ok," I said, adjusting myself on the bench. I felt tempted to slap her for being so annoying. "Who am I waiting for?" The rain stopped pouring and the girl stood up. The light from the lamp post made her look older than her actual age.

"You're waiting for the Other Half. He can't save you but you can him once you finally know who you are. Along with Rachael, Natti and Jazz."

"Why the hell would I want to save Natti and Jazz? Natti is trying to find a way to get Rachael and I screwed over and there's something off about Jazz."

Putting her hand gently under my chin, she responded, "You'll know soon." Just when younger me was about to turn around she gave me a warning. "You already know Rubrick is bad news but, Damien is just as bad."

I stood up and took hold of the collar of her raincoat. "Why!" I shouted. "Why do you think he's just as bad. Unlike Rubrick, I actually _want _to be with him."

"You mean you want to sleep with him." The younger me gently escaped my grip. "He might be fine in bed but, he isn't your Other Half. As much as he wants to be yours he belongs to somebody else and for a good reason." Slowly she backed away into the darkness. "He was never built to love, but for war."

For a second it was black than I open my eyes to bright light. I covered my eyes, "What's….happening." My head felt like it was stuffed with cotton balls. I heard people talking but it sounded so muffled I could make out what they were saying. It took five minutes to simply sit up only to lay back down again because it felt like my brain wanted to fly away. I would have laid there longer if I didn't smell food. I hadn't eaten in twenty-four hours so I felt pretty famished. I tried to roll off the table carefully but ended up falling on my back. I sometimes wondered why I hadn't died yet.

While screaming in agony I heard footsteps with Rachael calling my name, "Zoya!" She lifted me up midway. Her breath smelled like spearmint. "Are you O-" I pressed my lips against hers. If I was perfectly fine I would have gone further.

"I'm a little bit better, I just need some major painkillers and food." Rachael lifted me up into the next room. This room was blue with pink flowers on it with a brown round table in the middle. To the left of the room was a black door. For a room so pleasant looking it should have struck as odd for something so menacing as a black door but I was way too famished to care. On the table was alfredo pasta and chicken with wine on the right and two Advil on the left. I took the Advil first and then went to the pasta. Every single bite felt more delicious than the last.

Feeling better I noticed Rachael wasn't eating. "Are you hungry, babe? If you are don't be shy to eat from my plate. It's big enough for two anyway."

"I already ate," she said. Rachael scratched at her hand. There was a long red streak going from her wrist to her finger almost to the point of bleeding. Knowing her better then Natti and Jazz, Rachael usually does that when she's nervous. I pushed my plate back a bit. The fullness in my stomach didn't feel right.

"Rachael," I said. "Do you know something I don't."

Rachael put her hand on mine, "Please, don't be mad at me."

The black door opened to the last person I wanted to see. "Guten Tag, Miss Lovejoy," said the Frau. I jumped up with my hand to my side only to feel no weapon to defend myself. I looked at Rachael, disgusted by the pitiful look she was giving me. I couldn't help but think she betrayed me.

"What is this, Rachael?" I asked.

"I said don't be mad at me!"

"Are you trying to get back at me on the elevator or did you hire the Bitch to snuff me out." At the moment I thought to myself that Rachael was playing me this whole time and was really trying to get my spot as Leader. I mean, Rachael is supposed to play a character that wants my place. "If it's the last thing I mentioned then why don't you have the balls to off me yourself!"

"Shut up!" said the Frau. She pulls up a chair and sits down. "I'm not here to kill anyone. In fact, I'm the one that rescued you out of the parking lot before my husband got his hands on you."

"Husband?" Rachael and I said in unison. It's unusual for snuff stars to get married because of the short life span for us. Unless the son of a bitch is racist, who the hell would want to marry the Frau?

The Frau leaned in with raised eyebrows. "Yes," she said, taking of one black glove in her right hand. She wore a sliver-gold wedding ring. "I've been Rubrick's True Wife for almost thirty years." The way the Frau said it with bitterness must be the most terrible years. "When he found me, I was in an underground brothel. He was nice at first. Even promised that if I married him I would live a better life." She pauses for a little while, then added. "Of course, after we married…..he told me to…actually get my hands dirty."

Tears came strolling down her face. I wanted to ask what happened next. Clearly it must be something horrible but I wanted her to say it without being forced. Eventually, she continued, "The girl was about five and she looked very scared. He wanted me to kill her in the most brutal way possible. I didn't want to do it but he threatened that if I disobeyed his order he would send me back to the brothel and permanently keep me in the Mercy Room." The Frau closes her eyes and shutters. "I've been in the Mercy Room and they show no mercy there. Anyway…after I was done killing her, I was crying in a pool of blood. He forced me on all fours and said, 'Why are you crying for? You finally killed a Jew with your bare hands!' And then he….forced himself in me."

The Frau pulled out a gold and black pocket watch and opened the case. "Rubrick raped me multiple times and I hate him for it yet, at the same time he gave me three daughters." She closes the watch and slides it over the table to me. I reopen the watch. Inside were three girls sitting on a thick tree branch. "The oldest one is Klara and she's safe in Germany." The Frau suddenly laughs that makes me sit up straight. "And to think, Germany is safer then America. If only I got Wilma-Jean out as well." At that moment, the Frau began to cry softly. I looked at the picture a little bit harder. The oldest one I don't know but the other two looked strangely familiar.

"Wilma-Jean?" I asked. The Frau wiped her eyes.

"In your group, she called herself Billie-Jean," said the Frau. "The new girl in your group, Jazz, Perta as her alias, her real name is Jasmine and she is my youngest daughter." Holy shit, I thought to myself. No wonder Jazz is always high!

She stood up and walked over to me. She took a hold of my hand. Her face was close enough to see the gold lines in her irises. She's a clone too? Damn, the Frau is full of surprises!

"Since I saved your life, I want you to save Jasmine before her father decides to rape her too."


	13. Chapter 13

**Hey Guys! Many thanks to demonbarber14 form being my beta reader!**

Chapter 13

"If I agree to save Jazz I need to know something," I said. "Why did you save me?" I expected some argument to happen or even a fight to break out. None of those happen at all.

"Listen," said the Frau. She leans forward. "I don't have any feelings of hate towards you. In fact, I accepted your presence as another form of punishment from the Devil I married. Even though I don't care what happens to me anymore, I feel that it's only right that you redeem yourself a little to save my youngest daughter from her father."

"Redeem myself?" I had to laugh at this. "_Meine_ _Fuherin_, I'm beyond redeeming. I'm practically going to be seeing hell itself when I die if there is a hell at all. Why can't you help her yourself? Aren't you her mother?"

She banged her fist on the table. "You don't think that I've tried? I've done everything in my power to keep my daughters safe from that man!"

"Like what? Keeping them in a Bunker?" I asked. The Frau slapped me hard across the face. I was about to punch her in the face when a rolling tide of pain slushed inside my head. I would have fell off the chair if Rachael didn't keep me steady. "Oh shit," I said, rubbing my temples. "Please don't let me have another blackout." I hear something rattle nearby. I open my eyes to see the Frau handing me two pills.

"Take these," she said. "They slow down the memory overload of the broken device in your head." I look at the pills which almost resemble sleeping aids. I take the pills but I don't swallow them.

"What happens if I don't take them?"

"Then you will possibly go into a coma or die from the pressure that thing is putting on your brain," said the Frau, pointing at her head. Rachael puts her hand on my shoulder.

"Please, Zoya," said Rachael. "I really don't want you to die here." I really don't want to die either so I pop the pills. At least, they were easy to go down. It took a few moments for the headache to stop.

I lean back on my chair. "Ok, I want to hear why you failed saving your two other daughters yet somehow you managed to save the eldest from showbiz. Why is that?"

"When I said, I did everything in my power I really mean that. I've done degrading things for my husband just so I can keep my children homeschooled as well as media free so they won't have to know what I do for a living. It was a hidden blessing that he never showed an interest in them. Even though I had them homeschooled it didn't mean they were not curious about the world. I'll admit I was more focused on Klara than on Willma-Jean and Jasmine but I thought they would follow by example. Klara didn't get into any trouble or get involved with the wrong people."

That assumption right there is what got Billy-Jean and Jazz in showbiz in the first place. I'm pretty sure Klara has done some things behind her mother's back but, was more savvy at hiding it than her other sisters. Of course, I'm assuming as well but it's a universal truth that all kids have something to hide from their parents and for parents to hide something from their children.

The Frau continued, "I made sure Klara didn't know what I am and who I was. I knew she would know about Nazis and my 'old self'." The way she phrased old self made it sound disgusting. I wonder if she ever cracked open a history book, cringing at the old dictator looking back in a black and white photo. "But I made sure she never made any connections. I think the reason why Klara was a little easy to handle was because she acted normally."

"Normally?" I asked. The Frau darted her eyes away from mine, tapping her fingers against the table. She took in a deep breath, sighed and looked back at me.

"Wilma-Jean is lesbian and Jasmine has schizophrenia." This took me by surprise. I knew Billy-Jean had the hots for the ladies but I didn't know Jazz was cuckoo. That explains why Jazz always wanted to get high, in her own way she wanted to calm the voices in her head a little.

"I found Wlima-Jean kissing another girl. I forbid her from seeing that girl again but that didn't stop her. I thought sending her to conversion therapy would help. That's when her father…." All three of us knew what happened to Billy-Jean. Rubrick put her on showbiz with us, raped, then let her die. The Frau put her head in her hands and cried. Racheal went to her side.

"I'm sorry for your loss," said Racheal, putting a comforting hand on her back. I appreciate Racheal for having a kinder soul than I do. I think the Frau had it coming and deserves no sympathy of mine.

"So, what about Jazz?" I said, bluntly. I was getting annoyed of her sobbing.

The Frau wipes her eyes, calms herself and continues. "Jasmine started acting strange after I sent her sister to therapy. Jasmine kept murmuring to herself and looking into space for long periods of time. Every time I tried talking to her she would tell me to be quiet. I thought it was because of stress of her sisters being gone until one day I found her ripping pages Wilma-Jeans diary while repeating 'We're going to save her.'"

"She was saying the same thing the first time she came to work with us," I said. I remember that incident well. Jazz was in the bathtub where Billy-Jean died. She was drawing a red circle saying, 'We're going to save her.' At the time I thought she was high on some really powerful drugs because it took all three of us to get her out of the tub. Jazz kept screaming, "You don't understand, she needs help!" Eventually we had to calm her down with some tranquilizers. After that, she was mainly lucid.

"I can only imagine that night was stressful to her because the day I found her doing that thing with the pages was the same day Wilma-Jean got recruited with your team," said the Frau. "When I saw that I immediately sent her to the best mental health facility I could find. Every day I visited her. Every day she seemed to be getting better. I made the plans to take care of her once she got out of the psyche ward. On the day, I planned to take her home, I discovered she was arrested for drug possession. I kept begging Rubrick to let her go but he told me he was doing his 'fatherly duties'." The Frau leans forward, her eyes shiny. "Please, you have to help me save her. I don't want her to die like her sister!"

I leaned forward as well. "How can we save her?"


End file.
